


Precipitous

by steelcrash



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-09 08:31:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 68,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelcrash/pseuds/steelcrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after the events in Egypt, the Autobots learn Optimus Prime is no longer the only Prime. And that new Prime is having a hard time adjusting to his new circumstances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Precipitous  
Part 1-Downhill  
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.  
Earth was still new but the routine was not. The familiarity of the faces and procedure made it feel like nothing had changed, but it had. A place to call home. Those were the words that had drawn them to Earth. And not to mention the human allies of the Autobots. Alien and organic, they weren't all that different, given their small stature and shorter life spans. But those were thoughts for another time. Like when he was off duty.  
Shift change went smoothly. Hot Rod was all smiles as he took over from Ironhide, even though he was working a rare night shift. The overnighters tended to have a skeleton crew, headed up by Jazz, but overseeing them all this particular night was Prowl. Hot Rod figured if he kept his head down and did as he was told, the 12 hours would fly by quickly. But it was not to be.  
Carrying a stack of datapads from Jazz's office to ops for Prowl, Hot Rod rounded the corner into ops, not expecting to run smack into the object of his affection. The pads went crashing to the floor, eliciting glances from the others in ops, and a glare from Prowl and a look of sympathy from the mech who'd plowed him over.  
Prowl ignored the sympathetic mech, shouldered past, said, coming over to help pick up the datapads. "What is wrong with you?" the second in command demanded of Hot Rod.  
"Nothing. . ." Hot Rod stammered.  
"Help me organize these, then get back to your station," Prowl said.  
Hot Rod said nothing as he helped Prowl sort the pads and deposited them at the second-in-command's station. He received a curt nod for his assistance, then hauled himself over to his own terminal, where he was conducting monitor duty.  
Four monotonous hours later, he stretched, taking a quick look around. Prowl was still going through the datapads, Blaster was quietly bopping to the music piping through his private comm line, Blurr was darting from terminal to terminal, taking readings and Sideswipe looked like he was playing a video game.  
Much to Hot Rod's chagrin, Prowl caught him looking up from his monitor.  
"I'm putting together a list of supplies we still need," Prowl said. "I'll give it to you by shift's end, and if you can pass it along to Springer as soon as possible, it would be much appreciated."  
"Sure," Hot Rod said.  
"That's not all," Prowl said. "The C-17 carrying Lennox's team will be landing in about 20 minutes. Since I'm in charge of the watch, I'm giving you the responsibility of meeting the plane. I'm sure you know the routine by now."  
Hot Rod bit back a retort, choosing instead to give Prowl a curt nod.  
Prowl clapped him on the shoulder, walking back to his station.  
Hot Rod stood on the tarmac, watching the first of the two NEST C-17s taxi to a stop. He wasn't alone, flanked by the human second in command, British Special Air Services Solider Graham. The Autobot heard the human yawn, spared him a glance.  
"You could go back to your quarters, you know," Hot Rod said. "It's not like I'm going to tell anybody if you do."  
"I'm here, like you, because we have our orders," Graham said. "Don't think I wouldn't be back in my bed in an instant if I could, but. . ."  
"I know," Hot Rod said, venting air.  
Graham was now familiar with the Autobot equivalent of a sigh.  
"Prowl's not letting you off the hook, is he?"  
"Hardly," Hot Rod said.  
Before human and Cybertronian could finish the conversation, the cargo door on the plane closest to them opened and the first of its passengers began disembarking.  
Lennox reached them first, followed by Epps.  
"How'd it go, sir?" Graham asked.  
"We lost 'em," Epps answered for Lennox.  
The major shot the sergeant a look. "We didn't 'lose' anything," Lennox said. "They got away. And this is the last time I take Skids and Mudflap on a mission without adult supervision. They're not leaving this place again unless Optimus, Prowl or Ironhide are along on the mission. No offense to Jazz, but those two. . ."  
Hot Rod watched Epps and Graham exchange a knowing glance while Lennox suddenly focused his own gaze on Hot Rod.  
"You're not going to de-brief those two, are you? They need a trip to the brig. Can't you guys bounce them up to that ship of Springer's, throw them out an airlock or something?" Lennox asked.  
"Ask Optimus," Hot Rod said. "Preferably in the morning."  
Lennox frowned, but he knew the young Autobot wasn't trying to deflect him on purpose.  
"Look, I know it's just your job to make sure we're all in one piece and report back to Prowl, but can't you, I don't know, maybe say something to Ironhide?" Lennox asked.  
"You could," Hot Rod said.  
"I'm not waking him up," Lennox said.  
"And neither am I," Hot Rod said. "Wait-why won't Jazz. . ."  
"He said he's done with those two after this mission," Lennox said.  
Hot Rod shot Graham a glance. The human was just as startled as he was. If the normally amiable, laid back Jazz wasn't going to stand up for the twins, than they must've done something to really piss him off.  
"It was bad," Lennox said. "That's all you need to know. 'Night, Hot Rod. Graham, c'mon. We've got a few things to discuss. You can fill in hot shot here in the morning."  
Hot Rod nodded at the humans, turned his attention to the Autobots now leaving the plane. Jazz, Arcee and the twins were the first off; Jolt and Sunstreaker followed off the other.  
"Everybody all right?" Hot Rod asked Jazz as he approached.  
"Took some heavy fire, but nothing that can't wait until morning," Jazz said. "Gonna go turn in now. Say hello to Prowler for me."  
Hot Rod grinned at Jazz. "Sure thing," he said.  
Jazz nodded, herding Skids and Mudflap along as they headed toward the hangar that was the Autobot living quarters. Arcee, all three of her, gave Hot Rod a suggestive glance as she passed by. Oh frag, he thought.  
"If I were you, I'd be following them back to quarters."  
Sunstreaker.  
"Yeah, well, you're not me, are you?"  
"No," Sunstreaker said. "Thank the Allspark."  
It was then Hot Rod noticed Sunstreaker was cradling his left arm, and if he wasn't mistaken, the gold twin had black blast marks across his chest.  
"Are you all right?" Hot Rod asked.  
"Nothing that won't enrage Hatchet until morning," Sunstreaker said.  
"You're sure?"  
"It isn't bad," Sunstreaker said. "Jazz turned off the pain sensors in my shoulder, so I can at least get some rest."  
"If you say so," Hot Rod said.  
Sunstreaker walked away without so much as a nod. Jolt followed, leaving Hot Rod alone.  
Prowl cocked an optic ridge as Ratchet came tearing into ops. It was 0330. The Autobot second in command couldn't imagine a reason for Ratchet to be angry unless someone had come back from the mission hurt and hadn't said anything. Hot Rod had relayed to him indeed, there wasn't anything major, but from the look on Ratchet's face and the fact he had stopped at Hot Rod's station and now had him pinned to his console, it looked like something had happened.  
"What were you thinking, letting Sunstreaker go like that? Are you that dense? If *he* says it's not bad, it probably is," Ratchet growled. "Next time, I don't care if he says it's only a scratch, GET ME FIRST. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"  
"Yes sir," Hot Rod managed.  
Ratchet let him go. "You're lucky he's a twin. Otherwise, Sunstreaker would probably be dead if Sideswipe hadn't gotten me. You've got a lot to learn," the medic said. "And you better start learning fast."  
Ratchet stalked away, muttering. Hot Rod looked away from the medic's retreating form to Prowl's post. The second in command did not look happy. And he promptly proceeded to tell Hot Rod how unhappy he was.  
0645\. Forty-five minutes past the end of his shift and he'd just been turned loose. Hot Rod stood outside the door to the quarters he shared with Springer, fervently hoping when he opened the door he wouldn't find his friend in the same situation he had the last time he'd taken a night shift-happily twined and sharing an interface with Ironhide on *his* berth. That was a sight Hot Rod knew he was never going to purge from his processor. So now, he'd taken to comming Springer before entering.  
:Are you alone?:  
:Depends:  
:Jackass: Hot Rod replied, walking into his quarters as the door slid open at Springer's command.  
"How was last night?" Springer asked, grinning.  
"Got my proverbial aft handed to me by Ratchet and lectured by Prowl. In front of everyone," Hot Rod said.  
"Just another night at the office, as the humans say, eh, Rodi?" Springer said.  
"Unfortunately," Hot Rod said. "I'm surprised to find you alone."  
"Up until a little bit ago, I wasn't," Springer said. "'Hide said we can use his quarters instead. So you don't have to worry anymore."  
"Uh huh," Hot Rod said. "Speaking of worrying, has Ironhide told Lennox about you two yet?"  
"Not exactly," Springer said. "He's not sure how he's gonna take it."  
"Almost everyone else knows," Hot Rod said.  
"You could tell him. He likes you," Springer said.  
"No," Hot Rod said. "Now if you don't mind, I need to get a few hours of recharge before I have to go sit in on the de-brief."  
"Have fun," Springer said.  
"Ah frag. . ." Hot Rod said, suddenly remembering the data pad he was supposed to relay from Prowl to Springer.  
"What's the matter?"  
"Forgot to give you a requisition from Prowl," Hot Rod said. "More supplies. I didn't get the list when I left ops."  
Springer suddenly looked very, very annoyed. "Good thing you did forget," he said. "It'll give me the chance to have a little talk with our dear second in command. He can't keep coming to me for supplies when pretty soon, there won't be any supplies. Once what we have on the Xantium is gone, that's it. He of all mechs should realize. . ."  
"Get the list and go to Optimus and see if you can get some of it off the Ark. Or just see Jazz," Hot Rod said.  
"Or I can give the list to you and you and Graham can work your magic and find what we need," Springer said.  
"Whatever," Hot Rod said, settling back on his berth.  
"See you later," Springer said.  
Hot Rod didn't respond. He was already in recharge.  
The de-briefing went down like the human Titanic, Hot Rod thought, and that was *before* Lennox informed Optimus Prime about what Skids and Mudflap had done. Jazz remained silent throughout the meeting, arms crossed, his face solemn. And Hot Rod himself wasn't allowed to hear what had happened because he'd been ordered to remove the twins from the hangar.  
Once outside, the twins turned their ire on Hot Rod, but he stopped them before they got started.  
"One more word, and I'll give you to Ironhide for target practice," Hot Rod said. "Or I'll do it myself."  
Twenty minutes of watching the two fume later, the hangar door opened.  
Lennox gave the twins a feral grin as he passed by. "Nice knowin' you two," he said.  
Optimus Prime followed, bearing down on the two.  
"You're being sent to the Xantium for the next two weeks," Optimus said. "To the brig. During which time you can think about your behavior of late and the mission you compromised."  
"That's just a bunch of. . ." Mudflap started, but Skids punched his brother in the head.  
"That's enough," Optimus said. "I wouldn't move if I were you, because Roadbuster is going to initiate an orbital jump at any moment. Wouldn't want you to lose any body parts."  
Suddenly, a shaft of light appeared in a blaze, engulfing the twins and as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared.  
"What did they do?" Hot Rod finally asked.  
Optimus turned to him. "You do not want to know," he said.  
The safety and quiet of his quarters should have been a nice change, but it wasn't. Hot Rod had a report to write, and as usual, it was late. He and Graham had spent the afternoon getting together the supplies Prowl requested. The second in command was happy, Jazz was talking again and Optimus was a little less tense with the absence of Skids and Mudflap. Hot Rod only wished he could be so lucky.  
Since coming to Earth, he'd had responsibilities he never wanted thrown at him. As part of Springer's Wreckers, he'd had enough to keep him busy. Being his friend's second in command had been an honor, and he'd been proud to serve in that capacity. But never again, he'd been told.  
Hot Rod knew it was a little over a year since the battle with the Fallen and the retrieval of the Matrix of Leadership, which was now carried by Optimus Prime. The Wreckers had been on Earth seven months, two weeks, three days and 17 hours. He knew exactly to the second how long it had been since everything changed.  
One of the brands Hot Rod bore marked him as a Prime. Optimus Prime had singled him out as such because the Matrix came alive at the presence of another Prime. Lucky me, Hot Rod thought.  
It was just crazy. Nothing was the same anymore. Autobots he'd known a long time didn't treat him the same and Optimus was no exception. The Autobot leader had gone from treating him as a subordinate to treating him as an equal. Springer still treated him the same; as did Ironhide. Prowl had moments where he treated him as he always had-an inexperienced punk who still had much to learn, but sometimes. . .  
And the humans. . .Hot Rod knew he hadn't yet lived up to their expectations of what a Prime should be, considering they had the best example in the world, and then he came along. They even called him by the new name he'd been given-Rodimus Prime.  
That galled more than he could say. Hot Rod still thought of himself as Hot Rod. Springer called him Rodi, always would. Ironhide called him Rodimus, just to annoy him, but it wasn't malicious, so he didn't mind.  
Hot Rod's train of thought was broken when the door chimed. "Enter," he said, looking up from his data pad.  
Ironhide.  
"If you're looking for Springer, he's up on the Xantium and he won't be back for a few hours," Hot Rod said.  
"I thought so," Ironhide said. "But now that I'm here, how are you?"  
"Trying to finish this report so Prowl doesn't rip my head off," Hot Rod said.  
"He'd never do that to a Prime," Ironhide said. "Even if that Prime is you."  
"Wanna test that theory?" Hot Rod said.  
"Rodimus, I know this has been a hard transition to make, but you have responsibilities now. It's a hard burden to bear, but you're not alone. Prowl respects the title of Prime, what it means. And he's more than a little upset at the prospect of being replaced by you because you're a Prime," Ironhide said.  
"I am not replacing anyone," Hot Rod said. "Especially Prowl."  
"You need to tell him that," Ironhide said.  
"Or Optimus can," Hot Rod retorted.  
Ironhide didn't gratify him with a response. He decided to change the subject.  
"Did you know Arcee's been asking about you again?" Ironhide said.  
"You should have seen the look she gave me last night," Hot Rod said.  
"Maybe you should have a talk with her," Ironhide said. "You're lucky to have a femme interested in you. And you'd be well within your rights as Prime to initiate a relationship. . ."  
"Whoa. Stop right there," Hot Rod said. "'Well within my rights?' What the hell are you talking about?"  
"The fact you're a Prime, no doubt, has helped make you more attractive to Arcee. Are you that dense? You've finally given her a reason to look past your arrogance and. . ."  
From the look on Hot Rod's face, Ironhide knew he'd hit a proverbial nerve. Hot Rod had been anything but arrogant the past few months. Sarcastic, difficult, angry, yes. Arrogant, not much, but he'd shown moments of his trademark cockiness, but only sparingly.  
"Arcee's just looking for somebody to spark an offspring with, and that is not going to be me, Prime or not," Hot Rod said.  
"You don't know what you're missing out on," Ironhide said.  
"Do you know how many times on Cybertron she rejected me?" Hot Rod said. "And now, I'm not gonna take that bait. If she wanted me for me, she could have me. But otherwise, no way in the human hell."  
"Have someone else in mind, do you?" Ironhide asked, a mirthful gleam in his optics.  
"Hardly," Hot Rod said. "Ironhide, c'mon. I have work to do."  
Ironhide gave the younger Autobot a wan smile.  
"You should at least talk to Arcee," he said.  
Hot Rod hmphed, already again engrossed in his report.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Precipitous  
Part 2-Demanding  
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.  
0130\. Optimus Prime walked into the rec room, not expecting to find anyone there. But one table was occupied by a single Autobot. Rodimus, head resting on his folded arms, in recharge. An unusual sight, considering. Curious, the Autobot leader thought. He knew he shouldn't interrupt the other's rest, but Rodimus' presence in the rec room, alone, at such an hour warranted a disruption.  
He reached out, put a hand on the other Autobot's shoulder, shook him gently awake. Rodimus looked up, surprised to see his leader. Fellow Prime, he corrected himself.  
"What are you doing here by yourself?" Optimus asked.  
"Avoiding a sight that will plague me the rest of my life," Hot Rod muttered.  
"Springer and Ironhide are. . .taking advantage of your quarters?" Optimus asked.  
"Unfortunately," Hot Rod said.  
"And you have no place else to go?" Optimus asked. "I'm sure Arcee would welcome your company. . ."  
Hot Rod shot Optimus a glare, felt guilty, then remembered he was now his equal, kept on glaring.  
"Or not," Optimus said. "If you do not mind my prying, why are you reluctant to consider her?"  
"I do mind the prying," Hot Rod said, standing.  
"I'm sorry," Optimus said. "The next time you need a place to bunk, feel free to use my quarters. I'm not there most of the time anyway, so someone might as well use them. Or you know, you could request your own quarters. It is your right."  
"Thanks," Hot Rod said.  
"You can go there now, if you like. I'm taking over the second half of the watch for Jazz. Something about needing to set things straight with Prowl. . ."  
So much for Springer and Ironhide using the weapon master's quarters, Hot Rod thought as he left Optimus' quarters. He'd taken him up on the offer mainly because he had no desire to be caught out in the open by Arcee in the middle of the night and also because he was tired. Come to think of it, Optimus was probably due some rest now too considering he'd taken over the night watch, but probably not, knowing how stubborn that mech could be.  
His thoughts cycled back to Arcee as he made his way to ops. Once, he would've been happy to take her up on her advances, but not now, not when everything had changed. He knew he was going to have to talk to her about it, hopefully later rather than sooner. Hot Rod wanted to put off that conversation as long as possible.  
The base was quiet with the exception of the normal human and Autobot activities. Except it was calmer than usual because of the absence of Skids and Mudflap, Graham reflected as he walked into the NEST command center. A few of his American counterparts were deep in conversation, and as one of their commanding officers, he couldn't help but overhear what they were saying, and they didn't bother dropping their voices.  
As the conversation dragged on as he was waiting for Epps and Lennox to show up for their transmission to talk with Morshower, Graham grew more annoyed, finally deciding to say something.  
"For your information, Rodimus is indeed a Prime, Optimus' equal. He is young and inexperienced, and he deserves the benefit of the doubt and our respect. If I hear you talking in such a manner again regarding any NEST personnel, human or Autobot, there will be consequences," Graham said.  
He earned himself a glare and a reserved sigh, but it was the right thing to do. Some NEST personnel still hadn't managed to wrap their head around the fact there was indeed another Prime in their midst. The ones who had a problem with Rodimus kept comparing him to Optimus. Of course, there really was no comparison because Optimus was Optimus and Rodimus was well, Rodimus. Graham had a close working relationship with Optimus because he was part of the chain of command but he'd managed to develop a real friendship with Rodimus.  
Even Rodimus admitted on more than one occasion there was no one else like Optimus. It was a hell of a standard to have to live up to, and so far, Rodimus hadn't broken under the pressure. Bent, swayed and rebelled but he hadn't broken.  
The soldier looked at his watch, sighed, resisted the urge to roll his eyes when he heard footsteps pounding up behind him.  
"We've been waiting for you, sir," Graham said as he watched Lennox pass by with a nod, then climbed the scaffolding up to the communications platform.  
From the Autobot perspective, quiet could be bad for many reasons. It could mean someone was plotting something, usually the enemy, but quiet meant down time and too much downtime lead to pranks and other disruptive behavior. Or other bad conduct Prowl reflected, flinching when he heard voices rising from the direction of Optimus' office next door to his own.  
He thought about stepping in to see what he could do to deflect the argument, but the second in command knew there probably wasn't much he could do to stave it off. Instead, he decided to let his leader and work it out on his own.  
Inside Optimus' office, he was staring down his fellow Prime, arms folded, refusing to back down.  
"Don't lecture me about the duty of a Prime," Hot Rod said. "It's all I've heard since we landed on this mud ball."  
"Arcee is interested in you," Optimus said. "Do you know how many mechs would be happy to trade you places? And it is the opportunity to help realize the future of our people.  
"I'm not ready to be anyone's creator," Hot Rod said. "And if you're so hell-bent on helping bring about a new generation, why don't you interface with Arcee?"  
"You should at least give her interest serious consideration," Optimus said.  
The retort he received in Cybertronian over his private frequency made the Autobot leader flinch, just a millimeter. He watched Rodimus walk out of his office, shook his head in frustration before turning his attention back to his reports.  
Prowl and Jazz sat next door in Prowl's office, enjoying each other's company and the high grade Jazz had brought along.  
"That was a quite a row," Prowl said, taking a sip of energon.  
"It's been what, two weeks since the last one, so they were due," Jazz said.  
"If you say so," Prowl said. "By the way, it's your turn to go knock some sense into our intrepid leader."  
"Thanks for reminding me," Jazz said, standing up. He walked out of Prowl's office, rounded the corner into Prime's.  
"I'd apologize if I were you," Jazz said.  
Optimus didn't miss a beat, didn't look up, kept reading reports.  
"I didn't mean to set Rodimus off," Optimus said. "If he's already seeing someone. . ."  
"Are you kidding?" Jazz said. "He's been so busy he's barely had time to recharge."  
"I did find him recharging in the rec room last night," Optimus said. "He did take me up on the offer of using my quarters when I'm not there. Ironhide hasn't exactly followed through on using his quarters for. . ."  
"Extracurricular activities with Springer," Jazz said. "Why doesn't he just request his own quarters?"  
Optimus looked up. "Because Rodimus is as stubborn as they come."  
"That's an understatement," Jazz said. "But you know what might help?  
Jazz had to keep himself from smiling. At least he had his leader's full attention now.  
"If you have any suggestions that might make life easier for both Rodimus and I, I would be very happy to hear them," Optimus said.  
"Give him his old job back," Jazz said. "He was one of the best unit commanders we had on Cybertron."  
"He is a Prime. If anything happens to me, it will be up to. . ."  
"Yeah, I know," Jazz said. "Spare me this lecture again. He's young, and if you'd actually pay attention, you'd know he is fully aware of his position now and all of the responsibilities that go with it. I'm just suggesting you back off and let him do his job. How long's it been since he's seen any action? No, don't answer, because I can tell you how long-three months. Get him back on the mission roster and I can guarantee you he'll be a lot easier to deal with."  
"But he still has much to learn," Optimus said.  
"So did you," Jazz said. "And Ultra Magnus and the council rode you hard, so there's no reason to do the same to Hot Rod. He'll only rebel under the pressure. And since when is it OK to keep him away from combat when you're always in the thick of it? Seems to me you're hastening along that day when Rodi might have to take over."  
Jazz found Hot Rod fuming in his quarters. It took a little persuading, but he finally managed to get the young Autobot outside, onto the beach, where they could talk.  
"You're getting your old job back," Jazz said.  
"What?" Hot Rod asked, incredulous.  
"Unit commander," Jazz said. "Optimus didn't say no, so I'd count on it if I were you. I'll be putting you into the combat rotation as soon as you're ready, if you want."  
Hot Rod looked at Jazz as if he'd suddenly grown another head.  
"What happened to the whole 'protecting the legacy of the Primes' thing? Preserving the tradition of leadership?" Hot Rod said.  
"I gave Prime the idea it might make you a little easier to live with," Jazz said. "Don't go proving me wrong. And I hear he's offered you the use of his quarters because of Springer and Ironhide. Although I'm surprised you two aren't sharing a berth by now."  
"Jazz. . ."  
"Just hear me out," Jazz said. "I know you're attracted to him."  
"Attracted to that. . .pompous, overbearing, stubborn mech?" Hot Rod said.  
"You're right about the stubborn part," Jazz said. "He can be overbearing at times but pompous?"  
"Well, maybe not pompous but by the Allspark, he is stubborn," Hot Rod said.  
"Must be one of the qualities to be Prime," Jazz said. "Seems you two share that trait."  
"Unfortunately," Hot Rod said.  
"And about that whole Arcee thing. . ."  
"Not talking about it," Hot Rod said.  
"That's fine with me," Jazz said. "But you're gonna have to deal with it eventually."  
Hot Rod didn't answer. Instead, he was looking out at the ocean.  
Jazz resigned himself to the silence. At least he'd gotten Hot Rod to listen, which was more than Prime could say. Hot Rod was a young, attractive, desirable mech. Jazz could see why Arcee would want him as a mate. Hot Rod was also a Prime, and to Jazz, it made perfect sense, as Primes, for Hot Rod and Optimus to be together. Just didn't look like they saw it that way yet. Maybe Hot Rod did, but he was in denial that he could have what he wanted and Optimus just hadn't noticed the sparks flying when he was with Hot Rod. The idea of those two bonding made more sense than Hot Rod and Arcee. The union of two Primes would probably produce another Prime, if that was how the whole Prime thing worked.  
He pushed it from his mind, deciding to instead enjoy a little time away from his duties. They'd be back in the thick of it before they knew it.

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Precipitous  
Part 3-Responsibility  
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.  
Hot Rod rolled down the C-17's ramp, transformed as he hit pavement. He sighed as he felt drops of water start to pound down on his armor. At least the storm waited until the plane landed, he reflected as he limped his way toward the Autobots' main hangar. He was holding himself back from the others. He knew a lecture was coming, no matter whose fault it had been. Prowl was still alive, but for how long, was debatable.  
Ironhide's words were still rattling around in his processor, and no matter how much reassurance the weapon master had given him, Hot Rod knew what had happened was his fault. He would have to take responsibility, as was his duty as a Prime. Prowl had made the decision on his own, and Hot Rod let him make it. The Decepticon Bombshell was dead, but Octane and Kickback had gotten away. There were no human fatalities, which was a plus.  
Even Graham had reassured him that he'd done the right by letting Prowl engage the two smaller Decepticons on his own while the main combined NEST forces of human and Autobots took on the massive triple changer Octane. But it didn't change the facts-he was in charge, it was his call, and ultimately he was responsible for those under his command and their actions.  
Only pride and sheer stubbornness were keeping Hot Rod on his feet as he trudged to the hangar, but he couldn't take it anymore. He fell to his knees, down on all fours, retched, purging. Primus, he hurt, continued to heave until he felt himself hoisted up by a pair of mechs.  
Supporting him from the left was Springer, on his right, Ironhide.  
"You two should leave me out here to rot," Hot Rod said.  
"Whatever," Springer said. "Can't leave you outside for the humans to trip over."  
"No matter what you think of what happened today," Ironhide said. "You did what you had to do. So was Prowl."  
"Was? He isn't. . ."  
"No," Springer said. "Not yet. Still holding on, but barely. Ratchet and Red Alert are working on him. Perceptor's taking care of everyone else and by the looks of things, you should let him see you, too."  
"I'm fine," Hot Rod said.  
"Typical Prime," Ironhide muttered. "Can't stand on his own and he says he's fine."  
"I'm going to knock your heads together and leave you for Ratchet," Springer said. "Those are new gouges on your arm."  
"A few scratches can wait," Ironhide said.  
Graham suffered through the morning briefing and teleconference with Washington, D.C., was now glad he didn't have to relate the night's events again, at least not until he sat down to write his report. The mission could have been much worse, he reflected as he walked toward the Autobot hangar. Prowl was going to live thanks to the valiant efforts of Ratchet and Red Alert, although how much longer Rodimus was going to remain functioning after Optimus Prime was done with him was anyone's guess.  
Singapore, fighting in the rain against three Decepticons instead of two. A hell of a battle it had been, Graham thought. He glanced down at his left arm, which was now in a sling, thanks to a dislocated shoulder suffered when he'd been thrown back from an explosion. He was cut up, bruised, but still standing. And now he was free for a while, the soldier wanted to check on his Autobot friends.  
He passed the rec room, cutting through ops, nodding at Jazz and Sideswipe as he passed. He entered the med bay, taking note of how quiet it was. That was a rare thing, but when Graham saw who was sitting at Ratchet's customary perch by a patient, he knew why the place was quiet. The female Autobot, Red Alert, medic for the Wreckers who usually spent most of her time up on the Xantium, was sitting beside Prowl, watching the readouts on the monitors attached to the second in command.  
Red Alert's optics didn't move away from Prowl's monitors. "If you're looking for Rodimus, he's in his quarters," she said. "At least that's where he should be. If he's not. . ."  
She let her warning trail off, realizing she was talking to a human who was a friend with the wayward young Prime.  
"How's Prowl?" Graham asked.  
"Doing much better now," Red Alert said. "His antics have earned him a protracted stay here in the med bay, but I'm sure it's better than the alternative. I just have one question-did he decide to fight the two Decepticons on his own, or did Rodimus order it?"  
"Prowl ran the odds and decided our best chance of success was splitting our forces," Graham said. "So the decision was mutual. I'm as much to blame as those two because the most senior Autobot and human on a NEST mission share leadership. Although I thought when he meant 'splitting up' he meant more than just himself. . ."  
"His logic was flawed," Red Alert said.  
"I'm sure you'll tell him that when he wakes," Graham said.  
"I already did. So did Ratchet and Jazz," Red Alert said. "Prowl was awake for a short time earlier."  
"See you later," Graham said, leaving. He didn't want to hear anything more about Prowl's logic. He'd heard enough about it from Ironhide on the flight back to Diego Garcia. He made his way to the Autobot living quarters, thinking. Before leaving, Optimus had made it clear that Rodimus was to share command of the mission with Graham, with Prowl backing up Rodimus. Graham knew Rodimus planned on taking up the issue with Optimus. Either he was going to let him learn to lead or he was going to keep him on a leash.  
He reached the quarters Rodimus shared with Springer, hit the chime (thankfully when they'd refitted the hangar they'd taken humans into account), waited for the door to slide open. As it did, Graham walked in, watched Rodimus roll uneasily to a sitting position on his berth.  
"You look like I feel," Hot Rod said.  
"Glad to see your sense of humor is still intact," Graham said, giving his friend a smile.  
"I have a feeling by the end of the day it's the only part of me that will still be functioning," Hot Rod said.  
"Managed to avoid Optimus so far, eh?" Graham asked.  
"Hell yes," Hot Rod said. "But that's only because Red Alert ran interference for me. And, as usual, I owe her. That and she wasn't in any mood this morning to take any grief from anyone, including Optimus."  
Graham pulled up a packing crate kept in Rodimus' quarters for his visits, sat down. He didn't know much about the female medic beyond the fact she exhibited some of the same tendencies as Ratchet sometimes and was a fantastic medic.  
"It sounds like you've known her a while," Graham said.  
"Red and I served in the same squad a while right at the beginning of the war when Springer and I had just joined the militia," Hot Rod said. "She was doing a rotation to learn combat medicine. She's the reason why I'm still alive. Not only can she patch up a mech, she's a hell of a fighter, too, but that's a story for another day."  
"How did she end up with the Wreckers?" Graham said.  
"Got tired of the politics at High Command," Hot Rod said. "That and Optimus asked her if she'd consider joining the Wreckers as a personal favor to him. Ratchet recommended her, and how could she say no to the Prime? That wasn't the only reason, though. She'd just lost someone she was very close too. . .but I know she was looking for a challenge, a change, and the Wreckers gave her that, although being the only femme on that crew was asking for trouble."  
Graham raised an eyebrow. He'd heard stories in the half-year since the Wreckers' arrival, knew the crew consisted of the best and toughest the Autobots had to offer. He knew most of the unit by name and reputation, even though he hadn't yet had the pleasure of meeting them all in person. And now, listening to Rodimus talk about Red Alert, noticed how the Autobot held the medic in different regard to how he acted and talked about the other Autobot female, Arcee.  
Unlike some of the humans in NEST, Graham no longer had a problem asking questions when they came to mind, especially since he considered Rodimus one of his closest friends among his Cybertronian comrades. Although the question he was about to ask was potentially sensitive considering Rodimus' problems of late with Arcee, but he had to ask anyway.  
"You seem to regard Red Alert differently than Arcee," Graham said. "Why is that? She's the only other female and it seems to me every male on base would be vying for her attention also. . ."  
The look in Rodimus' optics made his blood run cold, but he knew the Autobot wouldn't do anything like, say, squish him. No, lately, Rodimus seemed to be saving his worst bouts of anger for Optimus.  
"Yes, Red is female, but she's a medic, and frankly, even though she is a female, most of the mechs here and on the Xantium are too afraid to approach her because she is a medic," Rodimus said. "A medic trained by Ratchet, who picked up some of his mannerisms. And about Arcee-I tried to get her attention for a very long and she never gave me the time of day. She always thought I was too immature, temperamental, you name it, I've been called it. Suddenly I have a new name and status and she takes an interest. How am I supposed to take that? I do respect Arcee and maybe if she backed off, maybe I'd give things a chance, but I don't know. . ."  
"Speaking of Arcee, you might want to know what happened last night," Graham said. "I heard this from Sideswipe this morning because he wouldn't shut up about it."  
Hot Rod frowned.  
"How did Sideswipe have time to hear any gossip and spread it around between repairs last night, the briefing this morning and everything else?" he said.  
Graham shrugged. "Because he heard it from Sunstreaker," he said.  
Hot Rod sat back against the wall, crossed his arms. That explained it.  
"Sunstreaker propositioned Arcee last night in the rec room, she shot him before Optimus could separate them and now he's in the brig," Graham said.  
"For how long?"  
"Tomorrow at least," Graham said.  
Hot Rod knew his friend was gossiping, stalling, trying to keep him from asking the question that he should have asked to begin with, but hadn't. He knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway.  
"How's Prowl?"  
"Red Alert said he'll be in the med bay a while, but he should make a full recovery," Graham said. "And she also said Prowl woke for a few minutes this morning."  
Graham watched Rodimus relax, tension draining from the young Autobot's frame.  
"That's good to hear," Hot Rod said. "I would have gone down to see how he's doing but I have orders from Ratchet and Optimus I'm to rest so. . ."  
"Don't worry about it," Graham said.  
"How can I not?" Hot Rod said. "I was the one responsible. . ."  
"And me," Graham said. "But no one's said anything about it."  
"Yet," Hot Rod said. "Just give Lennox a chance."  
Graham decided it was time to turn the conversation back to something less volatile. The events of the night before were still too fresh in both their memories and neither human nor Autobot was relishing the thought of their mutual reckonings with their commanding officers.  
"Speaking of Lennox," Graham said. "Has Ironhide told him about his relationship with Springer?"  
"Are you kidding?" Hot Rod said. "I'm getting tired of making up excuses for them."  
Graham couldn't fight the grin spreading across his face. "And that's why they insist on using your quarters for their. . .activities?"  
"Yes, because Ironhide's afraid he's going to get caught with Springer and then he's going to have to explain," Hot Rod said. "It's not like everyone hasn't figured it out already."  
Graham knew his friend was right. Lennox did not know Ironhide was involved with the commander of the Wreckers. Graham knew Epps suspected something in the beginning and had finally figured it out for himself. The Autobots knew and the rest of their human allies in NEST either knew about the relationship or just didn't care. But what kept Ironhide from telling his closest human friend was he didn't know how Lennox would react.  
"You think he should just tell him?"  
"Don't you?" Hot Rod said. "Look, if I had the time and interest to be involved with anyone, you and Springer would be the first to know. And you know how everyone here loves to gossip, so it would be all over the base in no time."  
"Then you're not interested in anyone on base, not in the least?" Graham said. He'd been talking to Jazz lately, who had some interesting things to say about Rodimus' interest in a certain mech.  
"Maybe," Hot Rod said.  
"Maybe?"  
"Yeah, maybe," Hot Rod said. "Doesn't matter anyway."  
"So you say," Graham said. "But maybe a relationship would be a good thing. . ."  
"I don't see you expressing any interest in any NEST personnel," Hot Rod retorted.  
"We have a rule regarding no fraternization," Graham answered. "Unlike you Autobots, who clearly have a different view on the subject."  
"You humans and your crazy rules," Hot Rod said. "Unlike you organics, the bonds we Cybertronians form are just one of the reasons why we fight. We Autobots fight to protect those we care about, those who cannot protect themselves."  
"Spoken like a true Prime," Graham said.  
Hot Rod snorted. Some Prime he was.

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Precipitous  
Part 4-Misunderstanding  
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.  
"Have you talked to him?"  
Optimus Prime's head snapped up, optics locked on the mech who'd managed to sneak into his office despite his size.  
"If you're referring to Rodimus, no, I haven't," Optimus said.  
"Why?"  
"A pair of nasty threats from Ratchet and Red Alert," Optimus said.  
"Since when do you heed empty threats from Ratchet?"  
"It's not Ratchet I'm afraid of this time," Optimus said.  
"The femme? What did she say?" Ironhide asked, interested now.  
"I'm not repeating it," Optimus said.  
"That bad?"  
Optimus raised an optic ridge. "Do you have a reason to be here, or are you just making idle conversation?"  
"I have a reason, and you know it," Ironhide said. "You're not going to try to talk to Rodimus before we leave?"  
"Ironhide, it's late, and he's recovering from injuries," Optimus said.  
"If you're not going to talk to him about how his mission went, at least show some decency and go see how he is," Ironhide said.  
Optimus sat back, crossed his arms.  
"I've received a full report of his injuries and his expected recovery," he said.  
"If you don't get off that stubborn aft of yours and go see him, I'll drag you there myself if necessary," Ironhide said. "He's been by himself all day wondering if you're going to punish him for what he considers a failed mission."  
"Rodimus' mission was not a failure," Optimus said. "He did quite well, considering the circumstances they were fighting under."  
"Then go tell him that," Ironhide said. "And Jazz told me you're planning on making Rodimus his second while we're gone. I'm glad to see you have such confidence in Rodimus' abilities, but again, have you told him this?"  
"No," Optimus said.  
"Then do it. Now," Ironhide said.  
Springer greeted Optimus when he showed up at the door to the quarters he shared with Hot Rod. The triple changer hastily excused himself, knowing business when he saw it.  
:I'll be back later: Springer commed Hot Rod. :I'll be with 'Hide if you need me, helping prep for the mission. And I will stop by before the plane leaves:  
:You better: Hot Rod said, turning his attention to the other Prime.  
"What do you want?"  
Optimus sighed. So much for an easy conversation. . .  
"I came to see how you are," Optimus said. "And I'm sure by now you know I'm leaving in a few hours, taking a team with Major Lennox to follow up on the new intel we have from Singapore. . ."  
"I'm fine, and I know about the mission," Hot Rod said. "So you can leave without lecturing me and now you can go clean up the mess I made."  
"Rodimus, that's just it," Optimus said. "You didn't make a mess. Quite the contrary. Octane and Kickback did get away, but their presence and that of your NEST team remained undetected by the general public and you lost no one on your team. I would consider that a success. You did very well."  
Hot Rod frowned. "Really?"  
"Yes," Optimus said.  
"But what about Prowl. . ."  
"Graham and Ironhide have both assured me that you and Graham allowed Prowl to make his own decision based upon the data he had," Optimus said. "Rodimus, if I didn't trust your judgment, I would not have allowed you to be put in command of a mission. Also, that is why while I'm gone I'm leaving Jazz in charge and you're backing him up."  
Against Ratchet's orders, Optimus had dragged Rodimus from his quarters to his own to go over a few things before leaving for the mission. Threats aside, he had a job to do. Also, Ironhide was right. Rodimus did need a little reassurance. That the usually cocky, hot-tempered young Autobot needed such assurance was a little disconcerting to the Autobot leader. But then again, Rodimus had been thrown to the wolves, as the humans said, when it came to his new position among the Autobots.  
At the moment, Rodimus was recharging on his berth, no doubt still exhausted from his own mission and injuries. A little high grade while they were going over the details he needed to impart to Rodimus helped put the young Prime out cold.  
For a second, Optimus had the notion that it wouldn't be a bad idea to crawl into that berth next to Rodimus and get some rest himself before leaving. But that was crazy. He knew Rodimus would knock him on his aft if he even tried.  
The Autobot leader sighed, knowing his time would be better spent rounding up the members of his team.  
0445\. Graham knew it was 0445 because he was awake, sparing his alarm clock an occasional glance when his gaze wasn't locked on Maj. William Lennox, his commanding officer, the man in charge of NEST.  
". . .and remember, I don't think I have to remind you, but light duty for you only the next few days. Run the drills yourself if you've gotta, but we should be back before then," Lennox said. "Optimus approved my request to keep Skids and Mudflap on the Xantium a few more days, so at least you're spared having to deal with them on top of everything else. Any questions?"  
"No sir," Graham said, wishing Lennox would just leave already. He liked and respected his commanding officer, but thoughts of mutiny were running through the soldier's head. For a few seconds. Still, it was a nice thought. Then he snapped himself out of it. What was he thinking? A couple of pain pills and a few more hours rest would help cure that. Hopefully.  
"Graham, you all right?" Lennox asked.  
"Yes sir."  
"Don't 'sir' me," Lennox said. "Look, I'm sorry I woke you up but. . ."  
"It's all right," Graham said. "It's our job."  
"Still doesn't make it right," Lennox said. "You shouldn't have any trouble with Jazz in charge. We'll be back as soon as we can."  
"Safe hunting, sir," Graham said, willing the other soldier to leave.  
"Wait-one more thing, before I forget," Lennox said. "I was just over at the Autobot hangar looking for Ironhide and it was the weirdest thing. . .thought I was seeing things, but I caught him coming out of Rodimus' quarters. Are they. . .involved or something? I'd ask, but, you know, it's kinda personal."  
No, so you're asking me, Graham thought. "Sir. . ."  
"I know, I know. . .I need to ask him myself," Lennox said. "Just make sure we have a base to come back to, will you?"  
Graham nodded, fell back on his bed after Lennox was gone, smacking his forehead. At least the other soldier had finally noticed *something* was going on with Ironhide.

Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Precipitous  
Part 5-Schism  
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.  
The sun wasn't even up when the three C-17s carrying Lennox, Prime and the rest of the NEST unit headed to Singapore took off. Jazz watched them until they were out of visual range, turning back toward the Autobot hangar. The Autobot third in command had a lot on his mind this particular morning-like how long he could get away with going back to his quarters for some more recharge before something went wrong, the best way to keep Sunstreaker in line while Prime was gone, and lastly, how to approach the problem of bolstering Rodimus' waning self-assurance.  
The two issues would probably keep him from getting anymore recharge if he thought about them enough and running them by Prowl was out of the question. Red Alert would have his head if he tried. Well, maybe not if he dropped by later when Prowl might actually be awake and able to talk for a bit, but Jazz wanted to stop by the med bay anyway to see how he was doing. He knew, had gotten an update on that and much more before Prime left, but he wanted to see for himself.  
Jazz finally arrived at the med bay, peeked inside the entrance, looking for Red Alert. She was filling in for Ratchet because he'd been tapped to go along to Singapore. And like her mentor, she had the same habit of sitting with a patient even at the expense of her own well-being.  
"I know you're there," Red Alert said, coming from Ratchet's office.  
"You must have optics in the back of your head," Jazz said, grinning at the female Autobot.  
"No, I just figured you might stop by," she said. "I saw you walk by a while ago when the others were preparing to leave."  
"How's Prowler?" Jazz asked.  
"Better than he was yesterday morning," Red Alert said.  
"How long before he gets out of here?"  
"Longer than any of us will want if he tries again what he did a while ago," Red Alert said.  
Jazz crossed his arms, looking expectantly at the medic.  
She sighed.  
"He ripped loose the cables connecting him to the monitoring system, attempting to walk out of here, all the while trying to convince me he was fine and didn't need to stay," Red Alert said. "I told him if he could pick himself up off the floor without assistance, he was welcome to leave. But naturally, he couldn't, so he's still here."  
"Remind me not to piss you off," Jazz said.  
Red Alert gave him a rare smile.  
"Unlike Ratchet, I save my wrath for those truly deserving of it," Red Alert said. "But that doesn't mean I won't greet stupidity with the response it deserves."  
"What did you threaten Prowlie with then?" Jazz said.  
"He can tell you when he wakes up," Red Alert said.  
"Bet he'll love it when I ask," Jazz said. "Before I go, have you checked on Rodi?"  
"Recharging in Optimus' quarters," Red Alert said. "He had me check on Hot Rod before he left. He was resting comfortably and his internal repair systems have finished fixing the damage that wasn't severe enough for Perceptor to fix yesterday."  
"I'm guessing Prime told you he's assigned Rodi as my backup while he's gone?"  
"Yes," Red Alert said. "He needs his processor examined for putting him under so much pressure, but Prime informed me of that also."  
"The kid won't break under the pressure," Jazz said. "He hasn't yet, although he might bust Prime."  
Red Alert snorted, and Jazz bit back a grin. The femme had picked up many of Ratchet's bad habits.  
"Prime deserves what he gets," Red Alert said. "I hate to say it, but it's true, even though it will be left to Ratchet or I to patch him up."  
Jazz squeezed her shoulder. "Maybe it won't come to that."  
Red Alert raised an optic ridge, exasperated.  
"You and your optimism," she said.  
Jazz grinned back at her, shrugged.  
"Your charm won't work on me," Red Alert said.  
"Hasn't worked on Prowler either," Jazz said.  
"Jazz, go get some rest," Red Alert said. "I'll comm you when Prowl wakes. And you better send Sideswipe down first thing in the morning so I can make sure he's regained the full range of motion in his shoulder.  
"Yes, ma'am," Jazz said.  
Optimus knew he should be recharging, but there was too much going through his mind. His human companions were sleeping or talking among themselves, and he knew it was the same on the other two planes, which carried Ironhide, Springer, Jolt and Ratchet. The Autobot leader had chosen firepower over speed this time. He knew it might be overkill considering it was only two Decepticons, but anything could happen, and it was better to be prepared.  
And he'd been ignoring Ironhide, who was trying to comm him while he was going over battle plans to occupy his time.  
:About time you decided to listen:  
:Ironhide, don't you have anything better to do?: Optimus asked.  
:Besides bother you? No:  
:Have you considered finally having that conversation with Lennox you've been putting off for weeks now?: Optimus said.  
:I keep hoping he'll figure it out on his own, save me the trouble: Ironhide said.  
:You, my friend, are afraid of one small human?: Optimus asked, his voice tinged with humor.  
:Afraid of what he'll think:  
:None of the other humans have said anything about your relationship, so why would it bother Lennox?: Optimus asked. He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from Ironhide, who had yet to voice his doubts about what his human friend would think. Humans could be primitive when it came to what they considered "proper" when it came to relationships, but all of the humans in NEST understood they were dealing with an alien species.  
:Because he is my friend and what he thinks does matter to me: Ironhide said.  
:Then because he is your friend, you should at least tell him:  
:I will: Ironhide said.  
:Good: Optimus said.  
:When we get back: Ironhide said.  
Satisfied, Optimus assumed Ironhide would now leave him alone. But it was not to be.  
:Speaking of relationships. . .:  
:Ironhide. . .: Optimus warned.  
:Hear me out: Ironhide said.  
:I don't have time for a relationship. And even if I did, *he* is clearly not interested: Optimus said.  
:You're being stubborn. You know there is an attraction there. Sparks fly when you're together: Ironhide said.  
:Sparks do not fly. Insults yes, sparks, definitely not: Optimus said.  
:You've always been too damn blind and stubborn to see what's right in front of you:  
:Ironhide, that's enough: Optimus said, hoping to end the conversation.  
:You're both Primes. It makes sense:  
The Autobot leader didn't gratify his friend with a response.


	2. Demanding

Precipitous

Part 2-Demanding

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

0130\. Optimus Prime walked into the rec room, not expecting to find anyone there. But one table was occupied by a single Autobot. Rodimus, head resting on his folded arms, in recharge. An unusual sight, considering. Curious, the Autobot leader thought. He knew he shouldn't interrupt the other's rest, but Rodimus' presence in the rec room, alone, at such an hour warranted a disruption.

He reached out, put a hand on the other Autobot's shoulder, shook him gently awake. Rodimus looked up, surprised to see his leader. Fellow Prime, he corrected himself.

"What are you doing here by yourself?" Optimus asked.

"Avoiding a sight that will plague me the rest of my life," Hot Rod muttered.

"Springer and Ironhide are. . .taking advantage of your quarters?" Optimus asked.

"Unfortunately," Hot Rod said.

"And you have no place else to go?" Optimus asked. "I'm sure Arcee would welcome your company. . ."

Hot Rod shot Optimus a glare, felt guilty, then remembered he was now his equal, kept on glaring.

"Or not," Optimus said. "If you do not mind my prying, why are you reluctant to consider her?"

"I do mind the prying," Hot Rod said, standing.

"I'm sorry," Optimus said. "The next time you need a place to bunk, feel free to use my quarters. I'm not there most of the time anyway, so someone might as well use them. Or you know, you could request your own quarters. It is your right."

"Thanks," Hot Rod said.

"You can go there now, if you like. I'm taking over the second half of the watch for Jazz. Something about needing to set things straight with Prowl. . ."  
\-----

So much for Springer and Ironhide using the weapon master's quarters, Hot Rod thought as he left Optimus' quarters. He'd taken him up on the offer mainly because he had no desire to be caught out in the open by Arcee in the middle of the night and also because he was tired. Come to think of it, Optimus was probably due some rest now too considering he'd taken over the night watch, but probably not, knowing how stubborn that mech could be.

His thoughts cycled back to Arcee as he made his way to ops. Once, he would've been happy to take her up on her advances, but not now, not when everything had changed. He knew he was going to have to talk to her about it, hopefully later rather than sooner. Hot Rod wanted to put off that conversation as long as possible.  
\-----

The base was quiet with the exception of the normal human and Autobot activities. Except it was calmer than usual because of the absence of Skids and Mudflap, Graham reflected as he walked into the NEST command center. A few of his American counterparts were deep in conversation, and as one of their commanding officers, he couldn't help but overhear what they were saying, and they didn't bother dropping their voices.

As the conversation dragged on as he was waiting for Epps and Lennox to show up for their transmission to talk with Morshower, Graham grew more annoyed, finally deciding to say something.

"For your information, Rodimus is indeed a Prime, Optimus' equal. He is young and inexperienced, and he deserves the benefit of the doubt and our respect. If I hear you talking in such a manner again regarding any NEST personnel, human or Autobot, there will be consequences," Graham said.

He earned himself a glare and a reserved sigh, but it was the right thing to do. Some NEST personnel still hadn't managed to wrap their head around the fact there was indeed another Prime in their midst. The ones who had a problem with Rodimus kept comparing him to Optimus. Of course, there really was no comparison because Optimus was Optimus and Rodimus was well, Rodimus. Graham had a close working relationship with Optimus because he was part of the chain of command but he'd managed to develop a real friendship with Rodimus.

Even Rodimus admitted on more than one occasion there was no one else like Optimus. It was a hell of a standard to have to live up to, and so far, Rodimus hadn't broken under the pressure. Bent, swayed and rebelled but he hadn't broken.

The soldier looked at his watch, sighed, resisted the urge to roll his eyes when he heard footsteps pounding up behind him.

"We've been waiting for you, sir," Graham said as he watched Lennox pass by with a nod, then climbed the scaffolding up to the communications platform.  
\-----

From the Autobot perspective, quiet could be bad for many reasons. It could mean someone was plotting something, usually the enemy, but quiet meant down time and too much downtime lead to pranks and other disruptive behavior. Or other bad conduct Prowl reflected, flinching when he heard voices rising from the direction of Optimus' office next door to his own.

He thought about stepping in to see what he could do to deflect the argument, but the second in command knew there probably wasn't much he could do to stave it off. Instead, he decided to let his leader and work it out on his own.

Inside Optimus' office, he was staring down his fellow Prime, arms folded, refusing to back down.

"Don't lecture me about the duty of a Prime," Hot Rod said. "It's all I've heard since we landed on this mud ball."

"Arcee is interested in you," Optimus said. "Do you know how many mechs would be happy to trade you places? And it is the opportunity to help realize the future of our people.

"I'm not ready to be anyone's creator," Hot Rod said. "And if you're so hell-bent on helping bring about a new generation, why don't you interface with Arcee?"

"You should at least give her interest serious consideration," Optimus said.

The retort he received in Cybertronian over his private frequency made the Autobot leader flinch, just a millimeter. He watched Rodimus walk out of his office, shook his head in frustration before turning his attention back to his reports.  
\-----

Prowl and Jazz sat next door in Prowl's office, enjoying each other's company and the high grade Jazz had brought along.

"That was a quite a row," Prowl said, taking a sip of energon.

"It's been what, two weeks since the last one, so they were due," Jazz said.

"If you say so," Prowl said. "By the way, it's your turn to go knock some sense into our intrepid leader."

"Thanks for reminding me," Jazz said, standing up. He walked out of Prowl's office, rounded the corner into Prime's.

"I'd apologize if I were you," Jazz said.

Optimus didn't miss a beat, didn't look up, kept reading reports.

"I didn't mean to set Rodimus off," Optimus said. "If he's already seeing someone. . ."

"Are you kidding?" Jazz said. "He's been so busy he's barely had time to recharge."

"I did find him recharging in the rec room last night," Optimus said. "He did take me up on the offer of using my quarters when I'm not there. Ironhide hasn't exactly followed through on using his quarters for. . ."

"Extracurricular activities with Springer," Jazz said. "Why doesn't he just request his own quarters?"

Optimus looked up. "Because Rodimus is as stubborn as they come."

"That's an understatement," Jazz said. "But you know what might help?

Jazz had to keep himself from smiling. At least he had his leader's full attention now.

"If you have any suggestions that might make life easier for both Rodimus and I, I would be very happy to hear them," Optimus said.

"Give him his old job back," Jazz said. "He was one of the best unit commanders we had on Cybertron."

"He is a Prime. If anything happens to me, it will be up to. . ."

"Yeah, I know," Jazz said. "Spare me this lecture again. He's young, and if you'd actually pay attention, you'd know he is fully aware of his position now and all of the responsibilities that go with it. I'm just suggesting you back off and let him do his job. How long's it been since he's seen any action? No, don't answer, because I can tell you how long-three months. Get him back on the mission roster and I can guarantee you he'll be a lot easier to deal with."

"But he still has much to learn," Optimus said.

"So did you," Jazz said. "And Ultra Magnus and the council rode you hard, so there's no reason to do the same to Hot Rod. He'll only rebel under the pressure. And since when is it OK to keep him away from combat when you're always in the thick of it? Seems to me you're hastening along that day when Rodi might have to take over."

\-----  
Jazz found Hot Rod fuming in his quarters. It took a little persuading, but he finally managed to get the young Autobot outside, onto the beach, where they could talk.

"You're getting your old job back," Jazz said.

"What?" Hot Rod asked, incredulous.

"Unit commander," Jazz said. "Optimus didn't say no, so I'd count on it if I were you. I'll be putting you into the combat rotation as soon as you're ready, if you want."

Hot Rod looked at Jazz as if he'd suddenly grown another head.

"What happened to the whole 'protecting the legacy of the Primes' thing? Preserving the tradition of leadership?" Hot Rod said.

"I gave Prime the idea it might make you a little easier to live with," Jazz said. "Don't go proving me wrong. And I hear he's offered you the use of his quarters because of Springer and Ironhide. Although I'm surprised you two aren't sharing a berth by now."

"Jazz. . ."

"Just hear me out," Jazz said. "I know you're attracted to him."

"Attracted to that. . .pompous, overbearing, stubborn mech?" Hot Rod said.

"You're right about the stubborn part," Jazz said. "He can be overbearing at times but pompous?"

"Well, maybe not pompous but by the Allspark, he is stubborn," Hot Rod said.

"Must be one of the qualities to be Prime," Jazz said. "Seems you two share that trait."

"Unfortunately," Hot Rod said.

"And about that whole Arcee thing. . ."

"Not talking about it," Hot Rod said.

"That's fine with me," Jazz said. "But you're gonna have to deal with it eventually."

Hot Rod didn't answer. Instead, he was looking out at the ocean.

Jazz resigned himself to the silence. At least he'd gotten Hot Rod to listen, which was more than Prime could say. Hot Rod was a young, attractive, desirable mech. Jazz could see why Arcee would want him as a mate. Hot Rod was also a Prime, and to Jazz, it made perfect sense, as Primes, for Hot Rod and Optimus to be together. Just didn't look like they saw it that way yet. Maybe Hot Rod did, but he was in denial that he could have what he wanted and Optimus just hadn't noticed the sparks flying when he was with Hot Rod. The idea of those two bonding made more sense than Hot Rod and Arcee. The union of two Primes would probably produce another Prime, if that was how the whole Prime thing worked.

He pushed it from his mind, deciding to instead enjoy a little time away from his duties. They'd be back in the thick of it before they knew it.


	3. Responsibility

Precipitous

Part 3-Responsibility

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod rolled down the C-17's ramp, transformed as he hit pavement. He sighed as he felt drops of water start to pound down on his armor. At least the storm waited until the plane landed, he reflected as he limped his way toward the Autobots' main hangar. He was holding himself back from the others. He knew a lecture was coming, no matter whose fault it had been. Prowl was still alive, but for how long, was debatable.

Ironhide's words were still rattling around in his processor, and no matter how much reassurance the weapon master had given him, Hot Rod knew what had happened was his fault. He would have to take responsibility, as was his duty as a Prime. Prowl had made the decision on his own, and Hot Rod let him make it. The Decepticon Bombshell was dead, but Octane and Kickback had gotten away. There were no human fatalities, which was a plus.

Even Graham had reassured him that he'd done the right by letting Prowl engage the two smaller Decepticons on his own while the main combined NEST forces of human and Autobots took on the massive triple changer Octane. But it didn't change the facts-he was in charge, it was his call, and ultimately he was responsible for those under his command and their actions.

Only pride and sheer stubbornness were keeping Hot Rod on his feet as he trudged to the hangar, but he couldn't take it anymore. He fell to his knees, down on all fours, retched, purging. Primus, he hurt, continued to heave until he felt himself hoisted up by a pair of mechs.

Supporting him from the left was Springer, on his right, Ironhide.

"You two should leave me out here to rot," Hot Rod said.

"Whatever," Springer said. "Can't leave you outside for the humans to trip over."

"No matter what you think of what happened today," Ironhide said. "You did what you had to do. So was Prowl."

"Was? He isn't. . ."

"No," Springer said. "Not yet. Still holding on, but barely. Ratchet and Red Alert are working on him. Perceptor's taking care of everyone else and by the looks of things, you should let him see you, too."

"I'm fine," Hot Rod said.

"Typical Prime," Ironhide muttered. "Can't stand on his own and he says he's fine."

"I'm going to knock your heads together and leave you for Ratchet," Springer said. "Those are new gouges on your arm."

"A few scratches can wait," Ironhide said.  
\-----

Graham suffered through the morning briefing and teleconference with Washington, D.C., was now glad he didn't have to relate the night's events again, at least not until he sat down to write his report. The mission could have been much worse, he reflected as he walked toward the Autobot hangar. Prowl was going to live thanks to the valiant efforts of Ratchet and Red Alert, although how much longer Rodimus was going to remain functioning after Optimus Prime was done with him was anyone's guess.

Singapore, fighting in the rain against three Decepticons instead of two. A hell of a battle it had been, Graham thought. He glanced down at his left arm, which was now in a sling, thanks to a dislocated shoulder suffered when he'd been thrown back from an explosion. He was cut up, bruised, but still standing. And now he was free for a while, the soldier wanted to check on his Autobot friends.

He passed the rec room, cutting through ops, nodding at Jazz and Sideswipe as he passed. He entered the med bay, taking note of how quiet it was. That was a rare thing, but when Graham saw who was sitting at Ratchet's customary perch by a patient, he knew why the place was quiet. The female Autobot, Red Alert, medic for the Wreckers who usually spent most of her time up on the Xantium, was sitting beside Prowl, watching the readouts on the monitors attached to the second in command.

Red Alert's optics didn't move away from Prowl's monitors. "If you're looking for Rodimus, he's in his quarters," she said. "At least that's where he should be. If he's not. . ."

She let her warning trail off, realizing she was talking to a human who was a friend with the wayward young Prime.

"How's Prowl?" Graham asked.

"Doing much better now," Red Alert said. "His antics have earned him a protracted stay here in the med bay, but I'm sure it's better than the alternative. I just have one question-did he decide to fight the two Decepticons on his own, or did Rodimus order it?"

"Prowl ran the odds and decided our best chance of success was splitting our forces," Graham said. "So the decision was mutual. I'm as much to blame as those two because the most senior Autobot and human on a NEST mission share leadership. Although I thought when he meant 'splitting up' he meant more than just himself. . ."

"His logic was flawed," Red Alert said.

"I'm sure you'll tell him that when he wakes," Graham said.

"I already did. So did Ratchet and Jazz," Red Alert said. "Prowl was awake for a short time earlier."

"See you later," Graham said, leaving. He didn't want to hear anything more about Prowl's logic. He'd heard enough about it from Ironhide on the flight back to Diego Garcia. He made his way to the Autobot living quarters, thinking. Before leaving, Optimus had made it clear that Rodimus was to share command of the mission with Graham, with Prowl backing up Rodimus. Graham knew Rodimus planned on taking up the issue with Optimus. Either he was going to let him learn to lead or he was going to keep him on a leash.

He reached the quarters Rodimus shared with Springer, hit the chime (thankfully when they'd refitted the hangar they'd taken humans into account), waited for the door to slide open. As it did, Graham walked in, watched Rodimus roll uneasily to a sitting position on his berth.

"You look like I feel," Hot Rod said.

"Glad to see your sense of humor is still intact," Graham said, giving his friend a smile.

"I have a feeling by the end of the day it's the only part of me that will still be functioning," Hot Rod said.

"Managed to avoid Optimus so far, eh?" Graham asked.

"Hell yes," Hot Rod said. "But that's only because Red Alert ran interference for me. And, as usual, I owe her. That and she wasn't in any mood this morning to take any grief from anyone, including Optimus."

Graham pulled up a packing crate kept in Rodimus' quarters for his visits, sat down. He didn't know much about the female medic beyond the fact she exhibited some of the same tendencies as Ratchet sometimes and was a fantastic medic.

"It sounds like you've known her a while," Graham said.

"Red and I served in the same squad a while right at the beginning of the war when Springer and I had just joined the militia," Hot Rod said. "She was doing a rotation to learn combat medicine. She's the reason why I'm still alive. Not only can she patch up a mech, she's a hell of a fighter, too, but that's a story for another day."

"How did she end up with the Wreckers?" Graham said.

"Got tired of the politics at High Command," Hot Rod said. "That and Optimus asked her if she'd consider joining the Wreckers as a personal favor to him. Ratchet recommended her, and how could she say no to the Prime? That wasn't the only reason, though. She'd just lost someone she was very close too. . .but I know she was looking for a challenge, a change, and the Wreckers gave her that, although being the only femme on that crew was asking for trouble."

Graham raised an eyebrow. He'd heard stories in the half-year since the Wreckers' arrival, knew the crew consisted of the best and toughest the Autobots had to offer. He knew most of the unit by name and reputation, even though he hadn't yet had the pleasure of meeting them all in person. And now, listening to Rodimus talk about Red Alert, noticed how the Autobot held the medic in different regard to how he acted and talked about the other Autobot female, Arcee.

Unlike some of the humans in NEST, Graham no longer had a problem asking questions when they came to mind, especially since he considered Rodimus one of his closest friends among his Cybertronian comrades. Although the question he was about to ask was potentially sensitive considering Rodimus' problems of late with Arcee, but he had to ask anyway.

"You seem to regard Red Alert differently than Arcee," Graham said. "Why is that? She's the only other female and it seems to me every male on base would be vying for her attention also. . ."

The look in Rodimus' optics made his blood run cold, but he knew the Autobot wouldn't do anything like, say, squish him. No, lately, Rodimus seemed to be saving his worst bouts of anger for Optimus.

"Yes, Red is female, but she's a medic, and frankly, even though she is a female, most of the mechs here and on the Xantium are too afraid to approach her because she is a medic," Rodimus said. "A medic trained by Ratchet, who picked up some of his mannerisms. And about Arcee-I tried to get her attention for a very long and she never gave me the time of day. She always thought I was too immature, temperamental, you name it, I've been called it. Suddenly I have a new name and status and she takes an interest. How am I supposed to take that? I do respect Arcee and maybe if she backed off, maybe I'd give things a chance, but I don't know. . ."

"Speaking of Arcee, you might want to know what happened last night," Graham said. "I heard this from Sideswipe this morning because he wouldn't shut up about it."

Hot Rod frowned.

"How did Sideswipe have time to hear any gossip and spread it around between repairs last night, the briefing this morning and everything else?" he said.

Graham shrugged. "Because he heard it from Sunstreaker," he said.

Hot Rod sat back against the wall, crossed his arms. That explained it.

"Sunstreaker propositioned Arcee last night in the rec room, she shot him before Optimus could separate them and now he's in the brig," Graham said.

"For how long?"

"Tomorrow at least," Graham said.

Hot Rod knew his friend was gossiping, stalling, trying to keep him from asking the question that he should have asked to begin with, but hadn't. He knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway.

"How's Prowl?"

"Red Alert said he'll be in the med bay a while, but he should make a full recovery," Graham said. "And she also said Prowl woke for a few minutes this morning."

Graham watched Rodimus relax, tension draining from the young Autobot's frame.

"That's good to hear," Hot Rod said. "I would have gone down to see how he's doing but I have orders from Ratchet and Optimus I'm to rest so. . ."

"Don't worry about it," Graham said.

"How can I not?" Hot Rod said. "I was the one responsible. . ."

"And me," Graham said. "But no one's said anything about it."

"Yet," Hot Rod said. "Just give Lennox a chance."

Graham decided it was time to turn the conversation back to something less volatile. The events of the night before were still too fresh in both their memories and neither human nor Autobot was relishing the thought of their mutual reckonings with their commanding officers.

"Speaking of Lennox," Graham said. "Has Ironhide told him about his relationship with Springer?"

"Are you kidding?" Hot Rod said. "I'm getting tired of making up excuses for them."

Graham couldn't fight the grin spreading across his face. "And that's why they insist on using your quarters for their. . .activities?"

"Yes, because Ironhide's afraid he's going to get caught with Springer and then he's going to have to explain," Hot Rod said. "It's not like everyone hasn't figured it out already."

Graham knew his friend was right. Lennox did not know Ironhide was involved with the commander of the Wreckers. Graham knew Epps suspected something in the beginning and had finally figured it out for himself. The Autobots knew and the rest of their human allies in NEST either knew about the relationship or just didn't care. But what kept Ironhide from telling his closest human friend was he didn't know how Lennox would react.

"You think he should just tell him?"

"Don't you?" Hot Rod said. "Look, if I had the time and interest to be involved with anyone, you and Springer would be the first to know. And you know how everyone here loves to gossip, so it would be all over the base in no time."

"Then you're not interested in anyone on base, not in the least?" Graham said. He'd been talking to Jazz lately, who had some interesting things to say about Rodimus' interest in a certain mech.

"Maybe," Hot Rod said.

"Maybe?"

"Yeah, maybe," Hot Rod said. "Doesn't matter anyway."

"So you say," Graham said. "But maybe a relationship would be a good thing. . ."

"I don't see you expressing any interest in any NEST personnel," Hot Rod retorted.

"We have a rule regarding no fraternization," Graham answered. "Unlike you Autobots, who clearly have a different view on the subject."

"You humans and your crazy rules," Hot Rod said. "Unlike you organics, the bonds we Cybertronians form are just one of the reasons why we fight. We Autobots fight to protect those we care about, those who cannot protect themselves."

"Spoken like a true Prime," Graham said.

Hot Rod snorted. Some Prime he was.


	4. Misunderstanding

Precipitous

Part 4-Misunderstanding

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

"Have you talked to him?"

Optimus Prime's head snapped up, optics locked on the mech who'd managed to sneak into his office despite his size.

"If you're referring to Rodimus, no, I haven't," Optimus said.

"Why?" Ironhide asked.

"A pair of nasty threats from Ratchet and Red Alert," Optimus said.

"Since when do you heed empty threats from Ratchet?"

"It's not Ratchet I'm afraid of this time," Optimus said.

"The femme? What did she say?" Ironhide asked, interested now.

"I'm not repeating it," Optimus said.

"That bad?"

Optimus raised an optic ridge. "Do you have a reason to be here, or are you just making idle conversation?"

"I have a reason, and you know it," Ironhide said. "You're not going to try to talk to Rodimus before we leave?"

"Ironhide, it's late, and he's recovering from injuries," Optimus said.

"If you're not going to talk to him about how his mission went, at least show some decency and go see how he is," Ironhide said.

Optimus sat back, crossed his arms.

"I've received a full report of his injuries and his expected recovery," he said.

"If you don't get off that stubborn aft of yours and go see him, I'll drag you there myself if necessary," Ironhide said. "He's been by himself all day wondering if you're going to punish him for what he considers a failed mission."

"Rodimus' mission was not a failure," Optimus said. "He did quite well, considering the circumstances they were fighting under."

"Then go tell him that," Ironhide said. "And Jazz told me you're planning on making Rodimus his second while we're gone. I'm glad to see you have such confidence in Rodimus' abilities, but again, have you told him this?"

"No," Optimus said.

"Then do it. Now," Ironhide said.  
\-----

Springer greeted Optimus when he showed up at the door to the quarters he shared with Hot Rod. The triple changer hastily excused himself, knowing business when he saw it.

:I'll be back later: Springer commed Hot Rod. :I'll be with 'Hide if you need me, helping prep for the mission. And I will stop by before the plane leaves:

:You better: Hot Rod said, turning his attention to the other Prime.

"What do you want?"

Optimus sighed. So much for an easy conversation. . .

"I came to see how you are," Optimus said. "And I'm sure by now you know I'm leaving in a few hours, taking a team with Major Lennox to follow up on the new intel we have from Singapore. . ."

"I'm fine, and I know about the mission," Hot Rod said. "So you can leave without lecturing me and now you can go clean up the mess I made."

"Rodimus, that's just it," Optimus said. "You didn't make a mess. Quite the contrary. Octane and Kickback did get away, but their presence and that of your NEST team remained undetected by the general public and you lost no one on your team. I would consider that a success. You did very well."

Hot Rod frowned. "Really?"

"Yes," Optimus said.

"But what about Prowl. . ."

"Graham and Ironhide have both assured me that you and Graham allowed Prowl to make his own decision based upon the data he had," Optimus said. "Rodimus, if I didn't trust your judgment, I would not have allowed you to be put in command of a mission. Also, that is why while I'm gone I'm leaving Jazz in charge and you're backing him up."  
\-----

Against Ratchet's orders, Optimus had dragged Rodimus from his quarters to his own to go over a few things before leaving for the mission. Threats aside, he had a job to do. Also, Ironhide was right. Rodimus did need a little reassurance. That the usually cocky, hot-tempered young Autobot needed such assurance was a little disconcerting to the Autobot leader. But then again, Rodimus had been thrown to the wolves, as the humans said, when it came to his new position among the Autobots.

At the moment, Rodimus was recharging on his berth, no doubt still exhausted from his own mission and injuries. A little high grade while they were going over the details he needed to impart to Rodimus helped put the young Prime out cold.

For a second, Optimus had the notion that it wouldn't be a bad idea to crawl into that berth next to Rodimus and get some rest himself before leaving. But that was crazy. He knew Rodimus would knock him on his aft if he even tried.

The Autobot leader sighed, knowing his time would be better spent rounding up the members of his team.  
\-----

0445\. Graham knew it was 0445 because he was awake, sparing his alarm clock an occasional glance when his gaze wasn't locked on Maj. William Lennox, his commanding officer, the man in charge of NEST.

". . .and remember, I don't think I have to remind you, but light duty for you only the next few days. Run the drills yourself if you've gotta, but we should be back before then," Lennox said. "Optimus approved my request to keep Skids and Mudflap on the Xantium a few more days, so at least you're spared having to deal with them on top of everything else. Any questions?"

"No sir," Graham said, wishing Lennox would just leave already. He liked and respected his commanding officer, but thoughts of mutiny were running through the soldier's head. For a few seconds. Still, it was a nice thought. Then he snapped himself out of it. What was he thinking? A couple of pain pills and a few more hours rest would help cure that. Hopefully.

"Graham, you all right?" Lennox asked.

"Yes sir."

"Don't 'sir' me," Lennox said. "Look, I'm sorry I woke you up but. . ."

"It's all right," Graham said. "It's our job."

"Still doesn't make it right," Lennox said. "You shouldn't have any trouble with Jazz in charge. We'll be back as soon as we can."

"Safe hunting, sir," Graham said, willing the other soldier to leave.

"Wait-one more thing, before I forget," Lennox said. "I was just over at the Autobot hangar looking for Ironhide and it was the weirdest thing. . .thought I was seeing things, but I caught him coming out of Rodimus' quarters. Are they. . .involved or something? I'd ask, but, you know, it's kinda personal."

No, so you're asking me, Graham thought. "Sir. . ."

"I know, I know. . .I need to ask him myself," Lennox said. "Just make sure we have a base to come back to, will you?"

Graham nodded, fell back on his bed after Lennox was gone, smacking his forehead. At least the other soldier had finally noticed *something* was going on with Ironhide.


	5. Schism

Precipitous

Part 5-Schism

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The sun wasn't even up when the three C-17s carrying Lennox, Prime and the rest of the NEST unit headed to Singapore took off. Jazz watched them until they were out of visual range, turning back toward the Autobot hangar. The Autobot third in command had a lot on his mind this particular morning-like how long he could get away with going back to his quarters for some more recharge before something went wrong, the best way to keep Sunstreaker in line while Prime was gone, and lastly, how to approach the problem of bolstering Rodimus' waning self-assurance.

The two issues would probably keep him from getting anymore recharge if he thought about them enough and running them by Prowl was out of the question. Red Alert would have his head if he tried. Well, maybe not if he dropped by later when Prowl might actually be awake and able to talk for a bit, but Jazz wanted to stop by the med bay anyway to see how he was doing. He knew, had gotten an update on that and much more before Prime left, but he wanted to see for himself.

Jazz finally arrived at the med bay, peeked inside the entrance, looking for Red Alert. She was filling in for Ratchet because he'd been tapped to go along to Singapore. And like her mentor, she had the same habit of sitting with a patient even at the expense of her own well-being.

"I know you're there," Red Alert said, coming from Ratchet's office.

"You must have optics in the back of your head," Jazz said, grinning at the female Autobot.

"No, I just figured you might stop by," she said. "I saw you walk by a while ago when the others were preparing to leave."

"How's Prowler?" Jazz asked.

"Better than he was yesterday morning," Red Alert said.

"How long before he gets out of here?"

"Longer than any of us will want if he tries again what he did a while ago," Red Alert said.

Jazz crossed his arms, looking expectantly at the medic.

She sighed.

"He ripped loose the cables connecting him to the monitoring system, attempting to walk out of here, all the while trying to convince me he was fine and didn't need to stay," Red Alert said. "I told him if he could pick himself up off the floor without assistance, he was welcome to leave. But naturally, he couldn't, so he's still here."

"Remind me not to piss you off," Jazz said.

Red Alert gave him a rare smile.

"Unlike Ratchet, I save my wrath for those truly deserving of it," Red Alert said. "But that doesn't mean I won't greet stupidity with the response it deserves."

"What did you threaten Prowlie with then?" Jazz said.

"He can tell you when he wakes up," Red Alert said.

"Bet he'll love it when I ask," Jazz said. "Before I go, have you checked on Rodi?"

"Recharging in Optimus' quarters," Red Alert said. "He had me check on Hot Rod before he left. He was resting comfortably and his internal repair systems have finished fixing the damage that wasn't severe enough for Perceptor to fix yesterday."

"I'm guessing Prime told you he's assigned Rodi as my backup while he's gone?"

"Yes," Red Alert said. "He needs his processor examined for putting him under so much pressure, but Prime informed me of that also."

"The kid won't break under the pressure," Jazz said. "He hasn't yet, although he might bust Prime."

Red Alert snorted, and Jazz bit back a grin. The femme had picked up many of Ratchet's bad habits.

"Prime deserves what he gets," Red Alert said. "I hate to say it, but it's true, even though it will be left to Ratchet or I to patch him up."

Jazz squeezed her shoulder. "Maybe it won't come to that."

Red Alert raised an optic ridge, exasperated.

"You and your optimism," she said.

Jazz grinned back at her, shrugged.

"Your charm won't work on me," Red Alert said.

"Hasn't worked on Prowler either," Jazz said.

"Jazz, go get some rest," Red Alert said. "I'll comm you when Prowl wakes. And you better send Sideswipe down first thing in the morning so I can make sure he's regained the full range of motion in his shoulder.

"Yes, ma'am," Jazz said.  
\-----

Optimus knew he should be recharging, but there was too much going through his mind. His human companions were sleeping or talking among themselves, and he knew it was the same on the other two planes, which carried Ironhide, Springer, Jolt and Ratchet. The Autobot leader had chosen firepower over speed this time. He knew it might be overkill considering it was only two Decepticons, but anything could happen, and it was better to be prepared.

And he'd been ignoring Ironhide, who was trying to comm him while he was going over battle plans to occupy his time.

:About time you decided to listen:

:Ironhide, don't you have anything better to do?: Optimus asked.

:Besides bother you? No:

:Have you considered finally having that conversation with Lennox you've been putting off for weeks now?: Optimus said.

:I keep hoping he'll figure it out on his own, save me the trouble: Ironhide said.

:You, my friend, are afraid of one small human?: Optimus asked, his voice tinged with humor.

:Afraid of what he'll think:

:None of the other humans have said anything about your relationship, so why would it bother Lennox?: Optimus asked. He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from Ironhide, who had yet to voice his doubts about what his human friend would think. Humans could be primitive when it came to what they considered "proper" when it came to relationships, but all of the humans in NEST understood they were dealing with an alien species.

:Because he is my friend and what he thinks does matter to me: Ironhide said.

:Then because he is your friend, you should at least tell him:

:I will: Ironhide said.

:Good: Optimus said.

:When we get back: Ironhide said.

Satisfied, Optimus assumed Ironhide would now leave him alone. But it was not to be.

:Speaking of relationships. . .:

:Ironhide. . .: Optimus warned.

:Hear me out: Ironhide said.

:I don't have time for a relationship. And even if I did, *he* is clearly not interested: Optimus said.

:You're being stubborn. You know there is an attraction there. Sparks fly when you're together: Ironhide said.

:Sparks do not fly. Insults yes, sparks, definitely not: Optimus said.

:You've always been too damn blind and stubborn to see what's right in front of you:

:Ironhide, that's enough: Optimus said, hoping to end the conversation.

:You're both Primes. It makes sense:

The Autobot leader didn't gratify his friend with a response.


	6. Correlate

Precipitous

Part 6-Correlate

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Male aggression so early in the day was clearly uncalled for, Arcee reflected. She was in the rec room, taking her mid-day break when Sunstreaker approached her with his usual arrogance. She listened half-heartedly as the gold twin yammered on about himself (mostly) and somewhere in the middle of the one-sided conversation, Tracks sidled up, trying to catch her attention. At that point, she was almost late returning to duty and by the time the first punch was thrown, she was definitely late, and now felt pity for the two mechs fighting over their own egos when Hot Rod came striding into the room.

The sound of weapons onlining prompted the young Prime to act quickly. And he did. He grabbed Tracks by one shoulder and Sunstreaker by another, smashing their heads together, effectively ending the fight. No longer staring at the two egotistical Autobots now lying in a heap at Hot Rod's feet, Arcee met his gaze, but she didn't get a chance to say anything. Over Hot Rod's shoulder she saw Jazz advancing.

"I hope you have a good reason for what you just did," Jazz said.

Hot Rod sighed, didn't try to explain.

"Help me get these two to the med bay, then you better be ready to talk," Jazz said. "And this day was going so well. . ."  
\-----

Singapore. One of its many harbour facilities. It was raining again. Ironhide would've sighed, but what was the point? For the second time in less than 48 hours, he was back in the rain. The humans called it monsoon season. Ironhide wondered if one of the levels of the human hell contained a place like Singapore during monsoon season. Not that he couldn't appreciate water as a precious resource, but fighting under such conditions was damn inconvenient.

Annoyance aside, they had found Octane. The triple changer was in his land mode-a truck like Optimus Prime, although unlike Prime, Octane sported a tanker trailer, which made up most of his bulk. The area was quarantined, as usual, but it was going to be tricky keeping the Decepticon on land. Human air support was available, but if they didn't engage Octane on land and keep him their, the situation would get out of control. Ironhide knew this, as did Prime and the rest of their NEST unit.

"Should we get this started?" Lennox said.

"Definitely," Ironhide said, sparing his human friend a glance.

"All right everybody, spread out," Lennox said. "We know where Octane is, but keep your eyes peeled for the second Decepticon."

Humans started to fan out in a circle around the Decepticon's position. Springer, who was with Ironhide, went to take his own place.

"Watch your back," Ironhide said, gaze locked on Springer as he walked by. He watched the younger mech transform, kept his optics on him as he sped away.

Lennox looked at Epps, eyebrow raised. "What was that all about?"

Epps rolled his eyes, sighed. "I'm not tellin' ya'," he said.

"Look, it's not how Ironhide said it-it's that he said it at all," Lennox said. "He's never said that. Not once, to anyone, not even Optimus in the three years I've known him. . ."

Epps and Ironhide shared a sidelong glance despite their difference in height.

"So I take it now isn't a good time to ask?" Lennox said.

"Hardly," Ironhide said, diving in front of Lennox and Epps, unleashing both cannons on Octane as he started to transform.  
\-----

Jazz sat on his favorite stretch of beach, lounging, watching the stars come out. He was off duty for the moment, having left Rodimus in charge of the watch. Sitting beside the Autobot was Graham. It hadn't taken long that afternoon to sort out what had happened the head-busting incident in the rec room. Sunstreaker was interested in Arcee, Arcee wasn't exactly interested in him and Tracks had stepped in. That had degraded into the fist fight between the two and Rodi's intervention.

It lacked finesse, Jazz reflected, but it worked. And then he'd given the younger Autobot a lecture on protocol that would've made Prowl proud before turning him lose with orders not to leave ops until he came back. Jazz hated being a hardass, but somebody had to keep things together until Optimus got back.

And there had been no word yet from Optimus' team, which meant they were probably optic-deep in a fight. That's what no communication usually meant.

Jazz sighed. He just hoped everyone came back alive.

Graham broke the silence.

"Lennox asked me about Ironhide this morning," he said.

Jazz's head snapped around. "Really? About time," he said. "How'd he take it?"

Graham sighed, rubbed the bridge of his nose with his good hand.

"He saw Ironhide leaving Springer and Rodimus' quarters, so he's made the leap of logic that Ironhide is involved with Rodimus," Graham said. "But to answer your question, he didn't seem bothered by it."

"The prospect that Ironhide's involved with another mech instead of a female Autobot?" Jazz asked.

"Yes," Graham said.

"I don't suppose Lennox was aware Rodi was recharging in Prime's quarters this morning," Jazz said.

"No," Graham said.

"Speaking of Rodi," Jazz said. "Did you get around to asking him if he was interested in anyone?"

"He said 'maybe' when I asked," Graham said.

"Better than nothing at all," Jazz said. "C'mon. We better get back, make sure hot shot hasn't put anyone else in the med bay."  
\-----

The fight was over, but the rain was still falling. Octane was scrap, Jolt was just finishing with Kickback and now they were starting to account for any injuries or missing personnel and get the hell back to the planes. Lennox was trying to herd his men toward the waiting Autobots and NEST Hummers to get everyone out of the quarantine area when he found Ratchet assisting an injured Springer. The human watched with interest as Ironhide dropped what what he was doing, turning his full attention on the other two Autobots.

"When I said create a diversion, I didn't mean. . ." Ironhide started.

"Throwing himself onto the back of a much larger enemy?" Ratchet offered helpfully.

"I'm fine," Springer said.

Lennox noted that the commander of the Wreckers was indeed not fine at all. One optic was burnt out, he couldn't stand on his own and his right arm was ripped off. Springer had created a diversion by transforming into his helicopter mode, flying over Octane before transforming again into his robot mode, dropping directly onto the much larger Decepticon's back.

"Uh guys, I hate to interrupt, but we kind of need to get out of here," Lennox said. "Optimus is already back at the plane."

Ratchet spared the NEST leader a glance, which Ironhide ignored, gaze still locked on Springer, who was trying his best to grin back without wincing in pain.

"At least I can report to Rodimus he won't have to worry about walking in on you two for a while," Ratchet said. "Sorry to put you out of commission, so to speak, Ironhide."

Lennox frowned. "Out of commission? What are you talking about?"

Three sets of Autobot optics locked on the human.

"Will, there's something I've been meaning to tell you. . ." Ironhide said.

At that moment, Epps came pounding up. "C'mon. We've gotta move. The weather's gonna break long enough for us to take off. . ."

But Lennox wasn't listening. He was staring at Ironhide, looking confused.

"Springer and I have been involved for the past three months," Ironhide said. There. It was out. He felt much better.

"Involved? Like relationship involved?" Lennox asked. It was suddenly becoming clear why Ironhide had been sneaking from Rodimus' quarters that morning. Not because of Rodimus.

"As in a relationship," Springer said. "With interfacing."

Epps looked at his friend, and suddenly felt a headache coming on. It was going to be a long flight home.  
\-----

Hot Rod let himself into Optimus' quarters, settled himself into the berth. It was closer to ops, he was tired and he hoped there would be less chance of Arcee bothering him. It was late, and the Optimus' and Lennox's team would be landing any minute. No one had died and the worst damage was limited to a few broken bones among the humans and Springer's arm. That Springer's injuries weren't life-threatening took some weight off Hot Rod's shoulders. Sworn brothers, they hated being separated from each other for long, even though they both knew duty and responsibility often required it. Satisfied everything, for the moment, was all right, Hot Rod allowed himself to drift offline.  
\-----

Optimus Prime let himself into his quarters, finally allowing himself to fully favor his left leg. It hurt, but minutes before in the med bay he'd lied to Ratchet just so he could go back to his quarters and get some rest. He could get his leg looked at in a few hours, when it was actually light outside.

As he made his way to his berth, the Autobot leader realized he wasn't alone. There, on the berth, curled on his side, facing the wall, was Rodimus. Optimus sighed. He had offered the use of his quarters to the other Autobot, knew he shouldn't be surprised to see him, thought for a few seconds about waking him up and throwing him out. But interrupting the rest of an Autobot who only a few days before had been where he was now-injured and tired, would be inconsiderate.

Optimus knew he had two choices-risk getting his aft handed to him by the younger Prime for invading his space or head back to the med bay and lose a body part to Ratchet and Red Alert. Pride be damned, Optimus thought. It was his quarters, his berth, and hadn't he been considering 24 hours ago the same thing? Crawling into his berth next to Rodimus? And what would it hurt if he did? Nothing wrong with sharing space, sharing companionship. Wasn't like he wanted to interface with Rodimus. No. Hardly.

Before he could change his mind, Optimus heaved himself down on the berth next to Rodimus, careful not to touch the other Autobot, hoping he wouldn't disturb him. When Rodimus didn't make a sound or move, Optimus stopped worrying, relaxed, let recharge claim him.


	7. Evocation

Precpitious

Part 6-Evocation

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Nothing escaped Red Alert's keen optics. The med bay was back in good order, despite the fact the place had two berths currently occupied. Prowl was in recharge on one berth and Ironhide was keeping an eye on Springer, who was the second patient. Ironhide met the medic's optics as she passed by, heading for Ratchet's office.

:Five more minutes, Ironhide. Springer needs rest. So do you. When was the last time you recharged?:

:A few hours before we left yesterday: Ironhide replied.

Red Alert frowned.

Ironhide didn't flinch.

:Save your energy for Hatchet: Ironhide said.

:I was just going to have a talk with our dear CMO. Speaking of stubborn mechs, where is our beloved leader? I know he told Ratchet he was fine. . .: Red Alert said.

Ironhide suppressed a smile.

:When Optimus say's he's fine, he usually isn't: he said.

:He won't be if he doesn't get his aft down here:

:Want me to go check on him?: Ironhide asked.

:It would be appreciated: Red Alert said.

:I'll go now: Ironhide said, nodding at the medic. He squeezed Springer's shoulder, glad the younger mech was going to be fine. And he didn't envy Ratchet one bit for what he knew was coming next. The medic was out cold at his desk after finishing Springer's repairs, and in need of some medical care himself for the hit he'd taken to his shoulder during the battle in Singapore. The weapons specialist smiled to himself, knowing Ratchet was about to get a taste of his own medicine.  
\-----

The sound of the door chime going off roused Hot Rod from recharge. But he quickly realized he couldn't move himself off the berth if his life depended on it because of the bulk of the other mech who had him pinned firmly in place. Optimus. Was in the berth next to him. Well, not exactly next to him, more like invading his space with his arms wrapped around him, spooned up against him.

Hot Rod didn't take the time to ponder that he should happily settle back into recharge and let whoever it was at the door ring the damn chime until they gave up. Responsibility and reluctance took over instead.

"Optimus," he said.

At the sound of a voice, the Autobot leader was roused from recharge.

"What is it?"

"One of us needs to answer the door," Hot Rod said. "And after I see who it is, I think I'm going to kill them. . ."

Optimus didn't respond right away because he was surprised Hot Rod wasn't talking about inflicting bodily harm on him. Instead, he rolled off the berth, stood, only to have his left leg give out, sending him crashing to the floor. Hot Rod scrambled off the berth himself, going to help his leader up.

At the same time, outside, Ironhide onlined one of of his lesser weapons and fired a shot at the door's access panel, letting himself in.

Hot Rod frowned at the much bigger mech. "Put your weapons away and help me get him up," he said.

"Whatever you say, Rodimus," Ironhide said. His tone was sarcastic but there was mirth in his optics. The two Primes sharing quarters? This was welcome news indeed.

"You're not taking me to the med bay," Optimus said as the two Autobots heaved him off the floor.

"My aft we're not," Hot Rod said. "I don't need another lecture from Ratchet, or worse."

"You'll get more than a lecture from me if you continue with this plan of action," Optimus said. "I'm fine. I'm only tired and my auto repair systems will take care of the damage."

"More than a lecture? I'd like to see you try. A lecture's about all you can handle right now," Ironhide said. "Besides. You should be proud Rodimus here is doing what he should instead of having to be told to do it."

:Ironhide, would you shut up?: Hot Rod commed.

Ironhide ignored the younger mech because they were at the med bay, but he didn't lay off Optimus.

"Stubborn. . .I think it's the hallmark of a Prime to be stubborn. Must be a requirement because when I hear the word 'Prime,' it's the first thing I think of. Can't imagine why, what with two living examples right here beside me. . ." Ironhide said.

"Rodimus, Ironhide's just lucky I don't have two good legs to stand on right now," Optimus said. "Because if I did. . ."

"You'd what, shoot me?" Ironhide said. "Like to see you try. And I don't think the sparkling here would try even if you ordered him. Would you?"

"I'll shoot you if you don't help me unload our dear fearless leader," Hot Rod said.

Ironhide couldn't control his laughter as he helped the young Prime unburden himself of Optimus as they deposited him on an empty surgical berth, leaving him to Red Alert.

\-----  
2240\. Hot Rod would've been willing to trade anything to be back where he'd been almost 18 hours before-recharging next to Optimus, but he couldn't go back because there was only moving forward. A long day that should have been over hours before was just winding down. He was headed back to his quarters now after leaving Prowl's office, where he'd just spent the past hour and a half with Jazz going over the details about a prank gone wrong involving Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and misappropriated parts and chemicals from Perceptor's lab.

The discipline was meted out and Hot Rod was going to lock himself in his quarters and try to get some rest. He knew exactly how much recharge he'd had since before and after his mission to Singapore, and the less Ratchet knew, the better. Not that Ratchet was in any position to do anything about it at the moment because he was off duty until morning because of his injuries.

Damn. The med bay. Hot Rod knew he should take the time to run by and see Springer but it was late and he would be risking a lecture about his own well-being and disturbing patients if he did. He'd received a status report on all the med bay occupants-Springer was due to be released from the med bay in the morning, as was Optimus. Ratchet was resting in his own quarters and Prowl was doing much better than expected.

Hot Rod debated detouring back to the med bay, but decided against it. If anything changed, either Red Alert or Jazz would let him know. Satisfied with his decision, he let himself into his quarters, sitting down on his berth, alone for the first time all day.

He sighed. The burden of leadership was a heavy one, something he could do without, but fate had dealt its hand and there was no escaping it. He was a Prime, and nothing would change that. Hot Rod let himself go back to that day-the day the Xantium arrived at Earth and everything changed.

He remembered the day well, but Hot Rod figured it was something he would never forget. After months aboard the Xantium on their long journey to Earth, most of the crew was relieved to make planetfall, and he'd been no exception. Springer had chosen him, Red Alert, Roadbuster and Sandstorm to actually go down to the planet surface. And Springer, wanting to make a lasting impression on the humans, opted to use the ship's teleportation system for an orbital jump down to the surface.

To say Optimus Prime was annoyed when they showed up unannounced was an understatement. The Autobot leader expected them to come down to Earth the way the rest of the Cybertronians on Earth had-in cometary form. The five Wreckers had ended up with an armed group of humans and Autobots surrounding them within seconds of their arrival. Hot Rod smiled at that memory because Ironhide had been the first to zero in on Springer, had been glad to see his old student. After realizing it wasn't a bunch of Decepticons, Ironhide had cuffed Optimus Prime in the back of the head, stomped over to Springer and the rest of them, effectively ending the standoff.

And what came next. . .Hot Rod's own introduction to Optimus Prime. He'd never met the leader of his people in person before. Not during his training under Ironhide then Kup or the duration of the war on Cybertron. Only from a distance had Hot Rod ever seen Optimus Prime, but he'd heard plenty about him from everyone he served with. He knew his own disrespect for authority should have lead him to more than one disciplinary hearing with the Prime, but somehow, Ultra Magnus always managed to head things off before they went that far.

Up close, Optimus Prime was an impressive, imposing figure, yet instead of intimidating, he exuded a sense of calm, peacefulness and quiet strength. And he wasn't an unattractive mech, either, Hot Rod noticed as Springer talked with Prime. And then, suddenly, it was his turn to be introduced.

". . .and this is Hot Rod, my second in command. . ."

Bright blue optics met his, Hot Rod accepted the offered hand in greeting. . .and then. . .electricity. . .a jolt of familiarity and something more arcing from the other mech to himself. Optics boring into him with such ferocity he almost backed away. But he steeled himself. He never backed down from a challenge. Ever.

Still holding onto his right hand, Optimus' left reached for his helm, and he did make to pull away this time.

"No. . .don't. . ." Optimus said, beseeching.

Hot Rod felt the gentle touch of fingers brushing over the brand on the side of his helm, then Optimus placed both hands on his shoulders. Hot Rod glanced from the Autobot leader to Springer, who was watching, optic ridge arched, clearly wondering what the hell was going on.

"Do you realize what this mark means, what you just felt?" Optimus asked.

"N. . .no," Hot Rod said.

"You are a Prime," Optimus said. "Like me."

And then everything that followed. . .explanations, demands, the changing of his name. Considering all that had happened, Hot Rod knew it should have been a small thing, but it had been the last straw, as the humans said. Others might have taken to calling him by the new designation, but he still thought of himself as Hot Rod, because to consider himself anything other than who he was would drive him mad.


	8. Mishap

Precipitous

Part 8-Mishap

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The morning teleconference with Morshower over, Optimus Prime suddenly found himself with a few hours to himself. Except at the moment, he was watching Maj. William Lennox sprint outside after Ironhide. He knew he shouldn't pry, but he'd been looking forward to this conversation for quite some time, so the Autobot leader excused himself from the hangar. He watched with amusement as Epps and Graham shared a glance.

"Record that, will you?" Epps asked.

Optimus nodded down at his human friends, then strode from the hangar, stopping just short of Ironhide's side.

". . .like I don't know what interfacing is. I've heard the scientific description from Ratchet," Lennox said. "Believe me, 'Hide, I did not need to know that part. Why the hell did Springer have to say that? Which, by the way, nice choice there."

"Then you are not troubled by the fact I'm involved with another mech, and not one of the female Autobots?" Ironhide asked.

"Who you choose to be with is your business," Lennox said. "You know what I mean. . .I want to know. You're my friend, and I'm happy for you, but why the hell didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because Ironhide was afraid of how you might react," Optimus offered.

Ironhide shot his leader a withering glance.

"Whatever," Lennox said. "You're a bunch of alien robots. As far as I know, anything goes, and apparently, it does. 'Hide, I don't need to know the intimate details of your relationship any more than you want to hear about mine."

"Agreed," Ironhide said.

"Get out of here. I have work to do," Lennox said, grinning up at his friend.

"That went well," Ironhide said, watching Will walk away. "Better than I could have hoped."

"You underestimate their ability to adapt," Optimus said.

"No, I was just imagining the worst," Ironhide said. "By the way, the next time I need backup explaining anything involving my personal relationships, I will ask you."

"I was only offering support if it was needed," Optimus said, trying not to look sheepish. "Over the years I have become well acquainted with your ability to articulate your feelings."

"I don't need help expressing my feelings," Ironhide said.

"No, they usually manifest in the form of weapons fire," Optimus said.

"At least I can express what I'm feeling rather than keeping it bottled up inside," Ironhide said. "And I've found someone who can appreciate how I. . .articulate. Which is more than I can say for you."

"I don't keep my feelings bottled up," Optimus said. "And the complication of an intimate relationship is something I do not need right now."

"My aft," Ironhide said. "We all need someone to at least talk to. And you've been talking less and less these past few months. What's bothering you?"

"At the moment, you," Optimus said.

"It's my job," Ironhide said.

Optimus crossed his arms, giving Ironhide a sidelong glance.

"Last time I checked, your job description was Autobot weapon specialist," Optimus said.

"And I have another question," Ironhide said. "Humor me. I know you're not going to like the question, but how long have you been celibate?"

Optimus' optics narrowed in annoyance.

"None of your business," he said.

"It is my business," Ironhide said. "And I hope I was interrupting something between you and Rodimus yesterday morning when I came to your quarters to check on you."

"All you interrupted was my recharge," Optimus said.

"That's all?"

"That's all," Optimus said.

"And you're not going to tell me what Rodimus was doing there?" Ironhide asked. He'd heard from Springer that Optimus had offered Rodimus the use of his quarters when he wasn't there, but he was hoping maybe something had changed.

"Again, it's nothing," Optimus said.

"If you say so," Ironhide muttered. "I have to go. I have weapons practice with the twins and Perceptor. Go get some rest. I know you have orders to take it easy today, so for once, do as the medics say. But I want you to consider this-you know how hard you've been riding Rodimus from the beginning? Did it ever occur to you that you could have been helping each other through this whole Prime thing instead of alienating him? What would Kup think?"  
\-----

The Xantium

Hot Rod was glad to be back on the Xantium. It meant not having to put up with the pressures of his new-found position because his fellow Wrecker's didn't give a damn. As long as he continued to pull his weight and watch their backs, they didn't care. And at the moment, he was taking care of a matter no one else wanted. Just another perk of being Prime, he reflected. He was looking for Skids and Mudflap who had escaped from the ship's brig and were now running loose somewhere on the Xantium, wreaking havoc and pissing off her crew. Unfortunately for the twins, they had yet to learn that an angry Wrecker was a deadly wrecker and that almost always meant shooting to kill. Except not in this case. He had orders to not harm them. Much.

:I know you're there. Come out or else:

:Or else what you punk-ass mutha. . .:

Hot Rod heard the sound of metal crashing against metal, flinched when Skids and Mudflap came rolling out of the supply closet where they were hiding, landing at his feet. The twins were beating each other senseless. That wasn't new, but whatever they'd done to piss off Roadbuster, Hot Rod intended to beat out of them if they didn't stop pounding on each other.

"Stop!" he yelled, hoping he wouldn't have to step in. He counted to 10, reached down, ripping them apart.

"Hey yo what's the idea. . ."

"I'm going to give you to the count of three to explain what you've done now," Hot Rod said. "If you don't, I hope all your earthly affairs are in order."

The twins exchanged a glance.

"One. . .

Skids ran a scan to make sure there was no internal damage from his scuffle with his twin.

"Two. . ."

Mudflap was wondering how much more high grade they could steal from Springer's not-so-hidden stash.

"Three."

Hot Rod onlined his weapons as the twins sprinted off in opposite directions. If he caught them, they were dead.  
\-----

Ironhide leaned against the hangar door, arms crossed, watching the goings on with interest. He wasn't the only one. Epps and Graham stood beside him, flinching as they listened to the exchange between Optimus Prime, Lennox and Morshower.

"What do you mean-they got away? You can destroy Decepticons twice your size but you can't keep control of two tiny Autobots?" Morshower asked. Lennox glanced up at Hot Rod, who was standing at attention by Optimus Prime.

"Would you mind explaining to the general exactly what happened?"

Hot Rod didn't move.

:You will explain because I am not doing it for you:

Hot Rod's head snapped around, and he glared at Optimus, bit back a retort. Couldn't act subordinate in front of the humans, especially now that he was a Prime.

"After escaping the brig, Skids and Mudflap incapacitated Topspin and Twin Twist, injured Whirl, while making their way to the shuttle bay. Once there, they managed to open the bay doors, detonate one of the shuttles using its auto destruct sequence, using the ensuing explosion to escape from the Xantium using their cometary forms," Hot Rod said.

"Optimus, I expect you'll be sending a team to retrieve them once they come back down to Earth?" Morshower asked.

"Yes," he answered.

"Keep me apprised of the situation," Morshower said, cutting the transmission.

Lennox sighed, sparing Hot Rod a glance as he passed by, walking outside. Epps and Lennox fell in beside him.

"I don't envy Rodimus one bit," Lennox said.

"It was an accident," Graham said. "The twins have always been. . .less than agreeable."

"Yeah," Epps said. "They do cause a lot of trouble no matter what they're doing."

"I know you're right, but it still doesn't change the fact they're AWOL, nearly destroyed the shuttle bay on the Xantium and now we have to go clean up any mess they make," Lennox said, trying to end the conversation.

He understood their sympathy for Rodimus-Epps got along with him, Graham was probably his closest friend among the human NEST personnel but when it came down to being able to depend on him, Lennox wasn't so sure he could.


	9. Raid

Precipitous

Part 9-Raid

Avoiding Optimus, Hot Rod decided, was his best course of action, so he contented himself with sitting on his favorite stretch of beach, contemplating the fate he'd been dealt. Prime or no Prime, he felt lost. He was an equal, yet he wasn't treated like it all the time, nor was he able to go back to being what he was-a warrior in the Autobot ranks, second in command of the Wreckers. Springer had reassured him that no matter what, he would always have a place with the Wreckers. Hot Rod knew that-the Wreckers were his family. A dysfunctional, trigger-happy deadly family, but family nonetheless.

The problem was where he stood with the other Autobots, Optimus, and more importantly, himself. His confidence in himself and his abilities had been badly shaken in the months since his arrival to Earth. He'd proven time and again he could lead a combat unit, worked better on his own, but how was he supposed to deal with the prospect of taking over the leadership of the Autobots if something happened to Optimus Prime?

And how was he supposed to do his job, whatever that was, with the other Prime constantly looking over his shoulder? Optimus had explained over and over again the duties of a Prime, yet had never completely laid out his expectations for Hot Rod beyond taking over leadership if something happened to him. He knew he needed to sit down and have a long discussion with Optimus but something always came up.

Then there was the matter of his attraction to the other Autobot. Half the time Hot Rod couldn't decide if he wanted to punch Optimus or shove him against the wall and have his way with him. Unfortunately, they mixed like oil and water, as the humans said. He was rash, hot-tempered, cocky, all things that did not sit well with the older, much more patient mech.

His reverie was interrupted by someone trying to comm him.

:Rodi, better get your aft back. Got things to discuss: Jazz said.

Frag, Hot Rod thought, transforming, speeding back to base.

Hot Rod found Jazz with Optimus in ops.

"We've found them," Optimus said.

Hot Rod held back a sigh. He didn't need to be told who the "them" was. Skids and Mudflap.

"Where are they?" he asked.

"Colorado," Jazz said.

"Colorado? What possessed them do come down there?"

:Stupidity?: Jazz offered silently.

Optimus ignored the question, choosing instead to discuss just how they were going to bring the errant twins back to the fold.

"We leave in one hour," Optimus said. "Jazz, you're in charge, Springer will back you up if needed. Rodimus, you're coming with me, as are Ironhide and Ratchet."

Optimus started to walk out of the hangar, stopped when he saw Rodimus still standing by Jazz.

"Are you coming or not?" he asked.

Hot Rod nodded, giving Jazz one last look before he left.

:Have fun: Jazz offered.

:This is going to be anything *but* fun:

He followed Optimus out, hoping for the best.  
\-----

Being tied down in his vehicular form in a small, moving space made Hot Rod nervous. He wasn't claustrophobic, but with Optimus Prime only a few feet away, similarly strapped down, and surrounded by humans, Hot Rod couldn't relax. The C-17's cargo area wasn't small, but to Hot Rod, who was used to the Xantium, the human transport felt small, especially with Optimus' bulk taking up most of the space.

Most of the humans were resting, including Epps, who was listening to his Ipod and Lennox, who was sitting, arms crossed, head leaned back, asleep.

Hot Rod wished he could enjoy a similar state, but being tied down, even for safety purposes, was almost more than he could take. That, along with the lack of suitable conversation was driving him crazy. He wondered why they just didn't use the Xantium for an orbital bounce, but it would have meant leaving the human NEST members behind. Orbital jumps and bounces posed a tiny problem for humans-death.

Luckily, they would be landing within the hour, and he would be free of his bindings and out on the open road. That thought alone calmed him.

Peterson Air Force Base, Colorado Springs

Lennox watched as Ratchet and Ironhide disembarked from their plane, then turned his attention to the other C-17, where Hot Rod was rolling down the ramp.

"I hope he remembers speed limits," Lennox said, watching as the young Prime, disguised as a dark red Dodge Challenger with black racing stripes, went by.

"With Optimus along, I don't think we have to worry about that," Epps said. "I'm more worried about dumb and dumber causing collateral damage."

Lennox shot his friend a look.

"Don't remind me," he said. "This is crazy. I can't believe we're hunting a couple of Autobots."

"Believe it," Epps said. "This should earn those two an even longer stint behind bars."  
\-----

A dirt road, twisting between the ancient red rocks the humans called a "garden" was a good place to hide. Mudflap had to admit for once, Skids had actually done something right. The place was pretty and quiet. Not that the two ever paid attention to such things, but there were moments, like now. And hopefully, it would be a while before the other Autobots caught up with them. The stunt they'd pulled on the Xantium had succeeded more out of luck than skill. Ironhide's training had paid off, though. Months before, they never would have been able to fight of Twin Twist and Topspin like they had.

:Yo, Mudflap, what ya thinkin'?: Skids asked.

:Nothin' leave me alone: Mudflap answered.

:Think they're onto us?:

:We blew up a shuttle. What you think?:

:Oh yeah. Was fun though, wasn't it?:

:Blowin' up stuff is always fun now leave me alone:

Getting the point, for once, Skids left his brother to his thoughts.  
\-----

:Remember, do not engage unless absolutely necessary. Use non-lethal methods if possible: Optimus said.

Hot Rod revved his engine in answer, riding up on Optimus' tail as he followed his leader, turning off the four-lane road onto the smaller, two-lane leading to the spot where the local NEST unit had tracked Skids and Mudflap.

:Back off: Optimus said, hitting his brakes, sending Hot Rod speeding at him.

At the last second, Hot Rod pulled around, shooting past Optimus.

:If I find 'em, you'll be the first to know: Hot Rod said, glad to be away.

Ironhide, with Epps and Lennox riding along with him, pulled up alongside Optimus.

:Enthusiastic, isn't he?: Ironhide asked.

:He's reckless and I don't think Ratchet would appreciate having to repair damage to us both caused by Rodimus' 'enthusiasm' as you put it: Optimus said.

:Then why did you bring him along if all you're going to do is complain about his methods?:

:I brought him along in hopes he would be willing to observe and learn. Clearly that is not the case: Optimus said.

:No, it's not. And he's the best suited to catch Skids and Mudflap because if you haven't noticed, he's the only one of us with a form built for speed and maneuverability: Ironhide said.

:His form is built for breaking the law: Optimus replied.

:Which can be enjoyable, once in a while, like speeding. When was the last time you. . .:

:Ironhide, we have a mission to complete, not spend our time discussing ways to bring down local law enforcement on our heads: Optimus said.

:At least you've noticed his form: Ironhide said. :And the color-that red, does suit his temperament and personality. Very attractive, if you're into that sort of thing:

:That color is the most likely to get noticed by law enforcement: Optimus said.

:And like yours isn't?:

Optimus didn't get to respond because ahead, he heard the distinct sound of weapons fire.  
\-----

"Yo punkass, wanna finish what we started up on the Xant'um the other day?" Mudflap yelled at Hot Rod, firing a shot, which the bigger mech avoided by rolling out of the way. As he rolled to a crouch, Skids, living up to his name, skidded to a halt in front of Hot Rod, turned, started to run away. But Hot Rod was quicker. He lunged, grabbing the smaller Autobot by the leg, hanging him upside down as he stood. As he did, he pointed his primary weapon at Skids' head.

"Power down your weapons or it's bye-bye twins," Hot Rod said, onlining the cannon.

"I can kick your ass," Mudflap said. "Wanta piece of me?"

"How many pieces would you like?"

Mudflap didn't turn around. Hearing that voice, the sound of those familiar footsteps and particular weapons, now both pointed at his small head made him put up his hands in surrender.

"Nice to know all my training hasn't been in vain," Ironhide said.

No human casualties, Skids and Mudflap were secured in one of the planes with their weapons offlined and vocalizers turned off, yet Optimus Prime still had reason to be annoyed. Very annoyed.

"Did he have to destroy the rock?" Lennox asked. "Was it really necessary? I mean really. . .c'mon Optimus. . .how are we gonna explain that one? It just fell over on its own? It was cemented in place."

Unable to move because he was being secured in place, Optimus sighed.

"We will come up with a solution," he said. "Even if I have to send Perceptor to fix the problem."

"Well that's not gonna satisfy Morshower. How the hell am I gonna explain a natural wonder was destroyed? That damn balanced rock has been a tourist attraction forever," Lennox said.

"Perhaps an earthquake knocked over the rock?" Optimus offered, trying to placate his agitated friend. A quick search of the Internet turned up information that the southern Rocky Mountains did experience seismic activity once in a while.

"That might work," Lennox said, leaving Optimus alone.


	10. Declaration

Precipitous

Part 10-Declaration

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod walked down the corridor to his quarters, hoping he could make it without any interruptions, like Arcee. Or at the moment, the big green mountain of metal coming his way.

"I hear you rearranged some of the geology out there," Springer said.

"I had help," Hot Rod said, shouldering past Springer's bigger bulk.

"Yeah, I know," Springer said, keeping pace with Hot Rod. "What is Prime gonna do with dumb and dumber?"

"Keep them here and turn them over to Ironhide," Hot Rod said.

"I wonder if he'll let me help?" Springer said, suddenly grinning.

"If it involves those two and a live fire exercise, count me in," Hot Rod said. "But for now, I'd settle for some recharge."

"Didn't rest on the flight?" Springer asked.

"Hardly," Hot Rod said.

"Why not? A long flight is a good way to catch up on recharge," Springer said.

Hot Rod frowned up at his friend.

"For you maybe, but I had to listen to Lennox talk about how much trouble we're in for knocking down a rock, and once he fell asleep, Optimus started in on me," Hot Rod said.

"Not a good trip home then," Springer said. "Well, I'll leave you to it then. Think I'm gonna go see Ironhide."

Springer clapped him on the shoulder, started in the direction of Ironhide's quarters. Hot Rod watched him go. At least someone was happy.  
\-----

Hot Rod ignored his internal comm exactly 15 minutes before the door to his quarters chimed. He rolled off the berth, walked over, hit the door release. In walked Optimus Prime.

"I've been trying to. . ."

"I know you've been trying to reach me. What do you want?" Hot Rod asked.

"You should have been at the morning teleconference," Optimus said.

"Seems to me you always do just fine on your own," Hot Rod snapped. "You woke me up just to tell me that?"

"I'm in no mood this morning for your insolence," Optimus said. "Why can't you just. . ."

Hot Rod frowned.

"What, be more like you?" he asked.

"That's not what I was going to say," Optimus said.

"But you were thinking it, weren't you?" Hot Rod said.

"I would never presume. . ." Optimus said.

"Stow it," Hot Rod said. "I don't want an apology."

"Then what do you want?" Optimus said.

"A few hours of uninterrupted recharge would be nice for a change," Hot Rod said. "But even that's been impossible the past few months."

Optimus sighed.

"The offer to use my quarters still stands," he said.

"Doesn't make a difference," Hot Rod said. "There's always an interruption of some kind, something needing the attention of a Prime."

"Welcome to my world," Optimus said, giving Hot Rod a wry smile.

Some of the fight went out of Rodimus, Optimus noticed.

"How do you deal with it?" Hot Rod asked, sitting down on the edge of his berth. Optimus joined him.

"By never forgetting that others depend on me, look to me for guidance, that I must set the best example I possibly can," Optimus said.

"That's not an answer," Hot Rod said. "Because you're not perfect. No one is."

"How well I know," Optimus said. "Truthfully, I seek out the company of those I care for most, like Ironhide, or Ratchet or Jazz. Or I take solace in the rare moments I have to myself."

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Hot Rod asked.

"No, it wasn't," Optimus said, placing a hand on Hot Rod's shoulder.

Hot Rod flinched, pulling away.

"What is it?" Optimus said.

"Sore is all," Hot Rod said. "Skids got in a lucky shot or two last night, and I decided I'd wait to have Ratchet take a look."

"That wasn't very wise," Optimus said. "May I have a look?"

Hot Rod nodded, tried to not pull away as gentle hands probed at his injured shoulder.

"Relax," Optimus said. "Being tense is only going to make it worse, but it doesn't appear the damage is severe."

Hot Rod didn't get a chance to say more as Optimus' hands moved from his shoulder to his back, rubbing his back struts, deft fingers caressing seams in his armor. The younger Prime was suddenly very aware of how close he was to initiating very inappropriate behavior with the Autobot leader.

"I think you should go," Hot Rod finally managed. "I'm sure you have things you need to do, and I need to get my shoulder looked at. . ."

Optimus stopped.

"I only thought to offer a measure of comfort and companionship," Optimus said. "You have been tense lately, and I apologize for 'riding you so hard,' as Ironhide put it. I thought you might be open to. . ."

"To what?" Hot Rod asked.

"Ironhide has been rather insistent that you've shown an interest. . .but I believe he was mistaken," Optimus said. "And for that, I also apologize."

"Don't," Hot Rod said. "Don't apologize. Because Ironhide isn't wrong."


	11. Detach

Precipitous

Part 11-Detach

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The sound of a human clearing their throat interrupted the conversation. Graham suddenly found himself under the scrutiny of two Primes, one looking relieved at the disruption of their discussion, the other unreadable. The soldier made note of the fact Optimus' hands were on Rodimus, and they were sitting on the berth. He was curious, but he acted like he didn't notice. That's what they got for leaving the door open.

"Rodimus, Prowl would like to see you," Graham said. "And he said to ignore Ratchet's threats when you arrive in the med bay."

Hot Rod resisted the urge to sigh. Instead, he stood, nodded to Optimus.

"We'll finish this later," Optimus said, watching the younger Autobot follow the human.

"What does Prowl want?" Hot Rod asked.

Graham shrugged.

"He didn't say," he said, choosing instead to see if he could find out why Rodimus actually managed to talk with Optimus without coming to blows. "So, what were you and Optimus discussing?"

Graham knew it really wasn't any of his business, but Rodimus was his friend, so technically. . .

"He was just seeing how I was. Skids managed to shoot me before I cornered them yesterday," Hot Rod said.

"Ratchet's not going to be happy you've avoided seeing him," Graham said.

"I know," Hot Rod said. "So can we get this over as quickly as possible?"

"As quickly as possible" didn't happen. With nothing better to do than bear Ratchet's tirade with his friend, Graham timed it. Fifteen minutes, 32 seconds of Ratchet ripping Rodimus and his intelligence, Optimus for not dragging him straight to the med bay when they got back the night before and then the rant turned to him. Graham bore it stoically at attention, although he had to resist the urge to twitch because Ratchet managed to get personal. Then the medic turned his ire toward Prowl for trying to conduct his duties while still confined to the med bay. Prowl just took it, arms crossed, glaring back at Ratchet. And then it was over when the medic grabbed Rodimus, shoved him toward a berth to fix his shoulder.

Graham took advantage of the situation to talk with Prowl, with the occasional dirty look from Rodimus, who had every reason to be annoyed with Ratchet and the second in command. Supplies were needed for the med bay and Perceptor was asking for more materials for his lab. Materials of a nature unsuitable for storage near humans. Volatile chemicals and weapons grade materials best left on board the Xantium and Ark.

"Perceptor knows better," Hot Rod said, walking out of the med bay with Graham. "I'm not even going to think about running this by Optimus. . ."

"But you have to," Graham said. "It's your job."

"Because I'm a Prime? If I'm a Prime, then I should just be able to tell Perceptor no, and that's that."

"But. . ."

"I know," Hot Rod said. "I have to. I might not have all the data I need to make an informed decision. Therefore I have to discuss Perceptor's request with Optimus."

"What about Ratchet's request?" Graham asked.

"It's mostly just stuff he's asked for before-metals for fabricating parts to help with repairs, barrels of crude oil that can be refined for medical-grade energon," Hot Rod said. "No problems there."

"Good," Graham said. "I have a copy of the list, so I'll start seeing what I can do about getting Ratchet what he needs."

"OK," Hot Rod said. "And I'll run Perceptor's list by Optimus and go from there."

\-----  
Early evening. Many of the base's personnel were going off duty for the night, or beginning their shift. But for some, like Optimus Prime, the day wasn't over yet, and it looked like the hard part was just beginning. The latest supply request was easy-finishing his discussion with Rodimus from that morning was proving difficult, at least knowing where to start.

Rodimus was tapping his data pad on his knee, annoyed, clearly wishing he was elsewhere, but Optimus wasn't going to let go, not when they needed to talk.

"I know you'd like to leave, but we have matters to discuss," Optimus said, finally breaking the silence. "We need to talk about. . ."

"This morning," Hot Rod said. "I know."

He sat back, resigning himself to the situation.

"How long. . .how long have you been. . .interested, as Ironhide put it?" Optimus asked.

Hot Rod sighed. Might as well answer the question.

"Since we got here," he said.

"So Ironhide hasn't been wrong," Optimus said.

No, you've just been very blind and slow on the uptake, Hot Rod thought.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice before now," Optimus said.

"Don't be," Hot Rod said. "It's not like we both haven't had other stuff to deal with."

"That, my friend, is an understatement," Optimus said, relaxing a bit. Maybe this wouldn't be as hard as he thought.

"But the question is now that it's out in the open, what do we do about it?" Hot Rod said.

Or not, Optimus thought. Before he could answer, Rodimus started to speak.

"We could do nothing," Hot Rod said. "Or we could. . .try to make a relationship work. But we both have our duties and responsibilities and you and I both know the relationship we've had up to now hasn't been easy. Why complicate an already difficult situation?"

Optimus noticed Rodimus didn't meet his optics as he talked, but he said nothing.

"You're sure this is what you want?" Optimus asked.

"Yes," Hot Rod said, meeting his optics.


	12. Dogged

Precipitous

Part 12-Dogged

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

"So what is it you're not tellin' me?" Jazz said.

Graham didn't look up at the Autobot sitting beside him.

"I don't gossip," he said.

"It ain't gossip," Jazz said. "Think of it as. . .sharing intelligence that benefits the health and well-being of everyone on base. Especially a couple of Primes. 'Sides, I don't hear it straight from you, whatever it is, I'll have to sort through rumors. There's already plenty of those runnin' around. So talk."

Graham sighed, knowing Jazz was right. And he didn't have to mention names because Jazz already had him figured out. Was he really that easy to read? Damn.

"I caught them talking this morning," Graham said.

"Talking," Jazz said. "Talking? Not Rodimus tryin' to rip Optimus apart?"

"No," Graham said. "Talking. I had the impression I was interrupting something. . .personal."

"Figures," Jazz said. "But this is good, maybe. Means they might finally be working things out."  
\-----

Optimus was enjoying a rare evening to himself. He'd finally decided to shove aside his work and give himself a few hours to do whatever he pleased. He could, as Prime, but he was never given to self-indulgence, but at the moment, he needed to do something that had nothing to do with strategy, personnel issues, or worrying. It was all there in the back of his mind, but he wasn't thinking about it. Trying, at least. Instead, the Autobot leader was trying to make sense out of Perceptor's revision of Einstein's theory of relativity.

His background as a scientist gave him a basic understanding of physics, but his specialty before becoming Autobot leader had been archaeology. Not that Perceptor's theories weren't interesting reading, but they made his head hurt. And thankfully, someone was at his door. Optimus set down his data pad, opened the door to find Ironhide staring back at him.

"Took you long enough," Ironhide said.

"I was just going over Perceptor's latest. . ."

"Spare me the scientific drivel," Ironhide said, walking inside his friend's quarters. "Have you finally set things right with Rodimus?"

Optimus raised an optic ridge.

"What gives you that idea?" he asked.

"I know you spent a lot of time in your office earlier this evening talking with Rodimus," Ironhide said. "The two of you carrying on an actual conversation as opposed to your usual confrontations is unusual enough to get noticed. Unless you two were doing something besides talking."

Optimus crossed his arms, frowning.

"We did nothing but talk," he said. "And for your information, I did broach the subject of Rodimus' interest in me. You were correct in your assumption. Are you happy?"

"It was never an assumption," Ironhide said. "Sparks fly when you two are together. I've told you that before. And now that you know, what do you intend to do about Rodimus' 'interest?'"

"We agreed it would be a complication neither of us needs right now," Optimus said. "Our relationship as it stands is difficult at best, and such an entanglement would only exacerbate the matter."

"Is that how you see a relationship-an entanglement?" Ironhide asked.

"Where Rodimus is concerned, yes," Optimus said.

Ironhide crossed his arms, at a loss for words.  
\-----

The med bay was Hot Rod's last stop for the evening. Another confrontation with Ratchet wouldn't happen because Ratchet was in charge of the night watch in ops. Given the fact Hot Rod needed to have a serious conversation with Red Alert, circumstances were working out for the best. He knew she'd be angry when she heard what he had to say, but he was just the messenger. It was another result of his long conversation earlier that evening with Optimus. But at least this he could deal with. That was why Optimus chose him to talk with Red and no one else.

"When was the last time you recharged?"

Red Alert whipped around, wrench in hand.

"I could ask you the same question," she said, putting down the tool. "And come inside the office. I don't want you waking Prowl up."

Hot Rod followed her inside Ratchet's office, threw himself down in a chair.

She didn't ask what he was doing there. The medic knew him well enough to just let him work things out of his system in his own time.

"How's Prowl?" Hot Rod asked.

"Better," Red Alert said. "

"If Prowl's doing fine, why are you hiding here with him instead of doing something else?" Hot Rod said.

"Because I'd rather be here than anywhere else on base," she said.

"Even the Xantium?" Hot Rod said.

"I'd rather be there," Red Alert said. "And why do you ask?"

No point in holding back his

"Optimus wants you to stay," Hot Rod said. "He's talked to Springer about it, and he agrees. You're doing more good here than being locked up on the Xantium with the rest of the Wreckers."

"Is that why you're here?" Red Alert said. "And what does Ratchet think of this?"

"Yes," Hot Rod said. "They thought it would be better coming from someone you actually like."

"Since when do you think I like you?" Red Alert said.

Hot Rod snorted. She'd always been able to cut through the bullshit. She kept him honest.

"You're still the same arrogant, disrespectful, hot-tempered pain in the aft you've always been," Red Alert said. "The only thing that's changed is the way you perceive yourself, they way others perceive you. That's all."

"That's all?" Hot Rod said.

"You never used to be one to let what others thought affect you," Red Alert said. "What's changed?"

Hot Rod stood to leave.

"Everything," he said. "Think about Optimus' request. It's not an order. And if it matters, Ratchet was the one who approached Optimus. Red, like I said, just think about it. You have a chance to make a real difference again, do more than fight, maybe settle down, start a family. That's what you've always wanted, isn't it?"

For a second, Hot Rod thought he wasn't going to leave the med bay alive. The look in her optics was dangerous, the one reserved for Decepticons or particularly fractious patients.

"I wanted that a long time ago," she said. "Like you said, everything's changed. Rodimus, go. You've said enough. I will consider Prime's request, but I'll need time."

Hot Rod reached out, squeezing her shoulder. The medic nodded at the younger mech, watched him go.

\-----  
The beach was quiet, save for the crashing of waves on the shore. Earth's now-familiar constellations blazed overhead. Romantic, Ironhide thought, if one were human. Luckily, he was neither human or prone to romanticism, but at the moment, he was content, barring wanting to knock some sense into his beloved leader and best friend. Wouldn't do any good, he reflected. In his experience, Primes had hard heads. They wouldn't listen to reason either when it came to advice pertaining to their personal lives. Maybe if he got Skids and Mudflap to spell it out in crayon Optimus would figure things out?

During his brief visit with Optimus earlier that night Ironhide had told him he'd lay off about Rodimus. It didn't mean he would, though. The direct approach wasn't working, so he'd have to try something else. What, though, he hadn't figured out yet. One thing he did know-Optimus deserved happiness and Rodimus deserved a chance with him. Well, they deserved each other. Not in a bad way either. The were Primes. It made perfect sense. Why couldn't Optimus see that?

"What are you thinking about?"

"Eh?" Ironhide asked, sparing the mech beside him a sidelong glance. He was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Springer, enjoying just being together.

"I said what are you thinking? Audios failing in your old age?" Springer asked.

"I'm not old," Ironhide said. "Kup is old. I'm just a seasoned warrior. As for what I'm thinking, Prime is stubborn. That's what."

"Which one?" Springer said.

"Optimus," Ironhide said. "Although Rodi is a close second."

Springer sighed, wondering what the two had done this time.

"Did they have another fight?" he said. Having been on exercises all day and most of the evening, he hadn't a chance yet to hear how things had gone that day.

"No," Ironhide said. "The opposite, in fact. They spent a lot of time talking in Optimus' office early this evening. Everyone in ops noticed, even Perceptor. I thought maybe. . ."

"What? You're not insinuating that Rodi's interested in him, are you?" Springer said. "That would never happen. . ."

"I think you need to talk to Rodi about it," Ironhide said. "But not tonight. And I know I'm right. Will you trust me on this?"

"I'll try," Springer said. "And I'll talk to Rodi in the morning."

"Good," Ironhide said, drawing Springer close.


	13. Tidings

Precipitous

Part 13-Tidings

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

0600\. Prowl was glad to be out of the med bay, but Ratchet's demeanor was. . .strange. No threats, no sarcasm, just "take it easy I'll come check up on you in your quarters later." The Autobot second in command took that to mean staying in his quarters recharging until the medic dropped by. But it wouldn't hurt to maybe stop by the rec room and get some energon, would it? What reason could Arcee possibly have for being in the med bay that early? That thought finally entered Prowl's fogged processor. It didn't take a leap of logic to know she hadn't seen any combat in days, not since her last mission. . .yes, she'd been hinting to Rodimus she'd be more than happy to accept him in her efforts to spark an offspring. And as far as Prowl knew, Rodimus had shunned the advances.

Prowl stopped his line of thinking there. He didn't want to blow his battle processor so soon after getting out of the med bay. Collapsing in front of the closed med bay door would be convenient, but he chose to walk away while he still could.  
\-----

Optimus Prime gave his chief medical officer a dubious look. It wasn't that he didn't believe Ratchet's assessment of the current situation. Not after Red Alert confirmed the diagnosis, but still. . .Instead of questioning Ratchet, he turned his attention to Rodimus, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking uninterested in the discussion.

"I take it you did not have your conversation with Arcee?" Optimus asked.

"Conversation? What? Are you blaming *this* on me?" Hot Rod asked.

"I'm not blaming anyone for anything," Optimus said. "I was simply asking a question."

"I haven't been alone in the same room with Arcee in days," Hot Rod said. "That's been a situation I've tried to avoid."

He then noticed the gleam in Optimus' optics. He was joking. Optimus had a sense of humor, but he almost never displayed it around him.

"Funny Optimus," Hot Rod said.

"I concur," Ratchet said.

"I mean no disrespect to Arcee or her condition," Optimus said. "I have rarely had the chance to jest with Rodimus. If you'll forgive my bad timing. . ."

"Nothing to forgive," Ratchet said. "Although I will reiterate Arcee has refused to name the sire of the new spark she is carrying."

"That is her choice," Optimus said. "Unless she chooses to divulge that information."

"Optimus, spark-bearing is serious business, and something that should not be undertaken alone. . ." Ratchet started.

"Arcee made the decision on her own," Optimus said. "To bear a sparkling. She's hardly alone here."

"If that is all then," Ratchet said.

"Yes," Optimus said. "Arcee's condition is stable?"

"She is operating well within normal parameters for this stage in carrying," Ratchet said. "And Arcee is in the best hands possible. Red and I will take excellent care of her."

"Of that I have no doubt," Optimus said.

Ratchet nodded at the two Primes, waited for Red Alert to fall into step beside him. Optimus waited to say anything more until his office door was closed again.

"Interesting way to start out the day," Hot Rod said.

"Very," Optimus said. "You're not troubled by the fact Arcee chose someone other than you?"

Hot Rod hmphed, pulling up a chair.

"Relieved, actually," he said. "It's not that I don't want to sire a sparkling someday, it's just that. . .I don't know."

"She was rather persistent in her pursuit for some time," Optimus said.

"Obviously she moved on," Hot Rod said. "And I bet the sire of that sparkling is one of two mechs. But you'll never guess who."

Optimus frowned. How could that have escaped his notice?

"Who do you think?" he asked.

"Tracks or Sunstreaker," Hot Rod said.

"I know they fought over her once, but. . ."

"She's been spending time with both," Hot Rod said. "I noticed because she wasn't pestering me anymore. I am happy for her, though."

"A sparkling is welcome news indeed," Optimus said. "Although I will respect Arcee's wishes regarding keeping her condition confined to a need to know basis for now."

"You know how fast information burns through this base," Hot Rod said. "News, gossip or otherwise."

"I know," Optimus said, standing. "Come. Let's go get some energon. Rodimus, even though we have agreed to keep our relationship as is, there is no reason why we shouldn't try to get along now. I know things between us have not been easy, but I am willing to work with you, set aside our differences. Will you try?"

"No reason not to," Hot Rod said, smiling as Optimus put a hand on his shoulder as they headed toward the rec room.


	14. Obtuse

Precipitous

Part 14-Obtuse

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

As the humans said, it it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out something was going on. Something more than normal, although "normal" among the Autobots and humans of NEST didn't exactly fit. Nor did the word "annoyed" cover the way Sideswipe was feeling. He wasn't stupid or unobservant. How could he not notice when Rodimus pulled Jazz aside before the special ops personnel meeting, talking for a few minutes before excusing himself. Or how Ratchet was suddenly preoccupied. Really preoccupied. He didn't even yell at him when he saw how mangled his arm was from the accident on the firing range involving himself, Skids, Mudflap and Ironhide. The clincher was the deletion of Arcee's name from the active duty roster.

Sideswipe knew there was only one good reason he could think of for the femme to be pulled from active duty. He, along with everyone else on base, at least the Autobot contingent, knew she was looking for someone to help her spark an offspring. He knew about her removal from active status because he'd been staring over Prowl's shoulder when he was going over the duty roster for the next two weeks during his mid-day break. Prowl wasn't supposed to be working, but he was anyway, and being considerate, Sideswipe had pointed this out, mainly just to get a rise out of Prowl. But all humor aside, the silver twin also knew that for a couple of weeks now exactly when and who his brother was interfacing. Arcee. So no, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on. Sunstreaker had knocked up the femme.

At least that was his leap of logic as he was headed to the quarters he shared with his twin. They were going to have a little talk. If Sunny had indeed accomplished the feat Arcee desired, oh for the love of little pink petrorabbits. . .Sunny was a twin. Who was interfacing with a femme with a split spark. What if Arcee was carrying twins? Like him and Sunny? For a few seconds, he felt like he was going to purge. All those times of being told over the years by various bots that they wished the twins would be saddled with a pair of offspring just like themselves if they ever became sires finally was coming home to roost. Another human saying that fit the situation.

But suddenly he brightened just a little. What if Ratchet hadn't yet come to the realization he'd reached? Sunny siring twins. Just like him and his brother. If the medic hadn't thought of it, Sideswipe would be glad to share the idea with him. Just as soon as he talked with Sunny.  
\-----

Hot Rod sighed, stretched, frowning as he heard his back struts popping in protest. Too many hours sitting behind a desk and he felt like he was going to rust in place. His shoulder and back were still a little stiff, and he made a mental note to have Ratchet or Red look at it when he had a chance.

He was finally caught up on all his reports, much to the relief of Optimus and Maj. Lennox. Optimus had graciously offered the use of his office for the task, much to Hot Rod's chagrin. First his quarters, now his office. Are the fates trying to tell me something, Hot Rod pondered as he stood. And too bad he couldn't maybe get Optimus to give him another back rub, like the morning before. . .he sighed. No, not going there. Off limits, out of bounds.

Before Hot Rod was even out of the office, Springer came barreling in.

"Good, I'm glad I caught you," Springer said. "We need to talk."

"About?" Hot Rod said, optic ridge raised.

"Just been hearing some interesting scuttlebutt around the base today," Springer said. "Your name came up more than once."

"Can we not talk here?" Hot Rod said.

"Sure," Springer said. "How about the beach?"

Springer didn't waste any time once they were outside.

"So is it true about Arcee?" Springer asked.

"Is what true?" Hot Rod said.

"That she's finally carrying," Springer said. "I know she's been pulled off active duty. Doesn't take much processor power to figure out what's going on. And I don't suppose uh, that, maybe. . ."

"Not me," Hot Rod said. "She only wanted me as a spark donor because I'm a Prime now. No other reason."

"You're crazy, you know that?" Springer said. "Lucky bastard, you've always had better luck with the prettiest femmes. . ."

Hot Rod snorted.

"Yeah, they only become interested in me after I've had my aft handed to me by them one too many times and I move on," he said. "But you've always been the lady's man, as the humans say."

"I can't help it if the femmes like me," Springer said.

"I'm sure Ironhide would love to hear you say that," Hot Rod retorted.

"My relationship with 'Hide is in no danger from any femme breaking it up," Springer said. "Hey, not to change the subject, but speaking of femmes, did you talk to Red about staying?"

"Yeah, the other night," Hot Rod said.

"What did she say?"

"She'll think about it," Hot Rod answered.

"Good," Springer said. "If she does decide to stay here instead of going back to the Xantium, maybe you two, I don't know, maybe she would give you a chance? You two were. . ."

"That was over before it began," Hot Rod said. "I helped her through a bad time, that's all."

"A 'bad time?' You were there for her through the worst. . .and that doesn't mean anything?" Springer said.

"It does," Hot Rod said. "But that is in the past."

"You're sure?" Springer said.

"Yes," Hot Rod said.

"Well, then I have another question to ask. Ironhide's got this crazy notion you were interested in Prime. He told me I should ask you, so I am. Are you?" Springer said.

Hot Rod sighed. No point in not telling the truth.

"I am. . .I mean, I was. But Optimus and I both agreed that we're better off the way we are. We've declared a truce, sort of," Hot Rod said.

Springer frowned.

"Optimus knows, could reciprocate your feelings and the two of you aren't doing anything about it?" he said.

"Spring, it's complicated, so can we just drop it?" Hot Rod asked.

"Complicated? Since when do you not go after something you want? The old Hot Rod I know would never back down from a challenge," Springer said.

"Like I said Spring, drop it," Hot Rod said, an edge to his voice Springer had never heard before.

"All right, Rodi," Springer said, wishing not for the first time things had not changed as much as they had.  
\-----

Sideswipe found his twin sitting on his berth, reading a data pad. Sunny was filling some of his non-interfacing down time by reading about the history of Earth's art. Of late, he was concentrating on the cave art from prehistoric France. Sideswipe knew this from what little time in the past couple of weeks he'd actually spent with his twin. The time when Sunny and he weren't on duty or when his brother wasn't interfacing the slag out of Arcee.

A direct course of action was probably best, Sideswipe reflected, snatching the data pad from Sunstreaker's hand, subspacing it.

"Sunny, is there something you'd like to tell me?" Sideswipe said, talking fast before his twin could protest the stolen data pad.

"About?" Sunstreaker asked, optics narrowing.

"Arcee," Sideswipe said.

"Are you jealous?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Of what?" Sideswipe snapped.

"You haven't said a word about how much time I've been spending with Arcee, so I assume you're upset because you and I haven't had much time together lately," Sunstreaker said.

"Hardly," Sideswipe said. From Sunny's reaction about mention of Arcee, the silver twin was beginning to wonder if the femme had said anything about her condition, if she was indeed carrying. If so, he was not going to be the one to inform his twin of his femme's condition.

"Then what?" Sunstreaker said.

"I think maybe you might want to go talk to Arcee," Sideswipe said.

Sunstreaker frowned, now puzzled enough to not worry about such a look marring his features.

"I was going to go see her tonight," Sunstreaker said.

"Good," Sideswipe said. "Then go."

Sunny glared now, but didn't say anything as he walked from their quarters. Sideswipe followed him out, headed in the opposite direction. His head was starting to hurt, and only some time with Jazz and a little high grade would help.


	15. Fertile

Precipitous

Part 15-Fertile

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

:Rodimus:

Hot Rod ignored the comm.

:RODIMUS. Get off your aft. I need help an' you're the only one I trust. Lab:

Jazz. What the hell was wrong *now*? Hot Rod though, rolling off his berth. Moments later he found out what was wrong when he found Jazz sitting on the floor, arm around a clearly distraught Sunstreaker.

:What's the matter?: Hot Rod asked. :And why didn't you get Sideswipe instead?:

:'Sides is passed out in my quarters from too much high grade: Jazz said. :But he managed to tell me something was wrong with Sunny before he crashed. Just said he was hiding in the lab, didn't want anyone to find him and he'd kill 'Sides if he said anything. So much for that, but I don't suppose this has anything to do with Arcee, does it?:

:I don't like to assume, but my guess is probably: Hot Rod answered.

:Really? Sunny an' Arcee? Didn't see that coming: Jazz said. :Wanna help me get this guy back to his quarters? Can't imagine anything else causin' Sunny to behave like this.:

Hot Rod knelt down by the two mechs, put an arm around Sunstreaker, helped Jazz hoist him to his feet.

"C'mon, sunshine, looks like you could use some help," Hot Rod said.

"I don't need help," Sunstreaker said. "I'm fine."

"Uh huh," Jazz said. "You're shakin' so bad you can barely stand."

Sunstreaker glared, but gave up, realizing Jazz was right.

"And don't worry. We won't tell Ratchet," Hot Rod said. "As long as you get some rest."

"Yeah," Jazz said.

They felt the tension drain from Sunstreaker as he let them help him to his quarters. Once he was safely deposited on his berth and they were outside, Jazz grinned.

"Can you imagine what Ratchet's gonna do when he finds out Arcee's with Sunstreaker?" Jazz said. Then he notice the look on Rodimus' face. "Not that I'm gonna say anything."

"I hope I'm off the island when he does find out," Hot Rod said.  
\-----

Optimus Prime was headed back to his quarters. Being pulled from recharge by Perceptor in the middle of the night caused more than a little panic. The scientist was in charge of the watch in ops and unfortunately, this night, Skids and Mudflap were assigned to monitor duty, along with Blurr and Blaster. Fearing he'd see ops blown apart or something similar, the Autobot leader had practically ran to ops. But instead of finding chaos, all was well, which was almost as disconcerting as the thought of disorder. Skids and Mudflap weren't the problem. No, that pair of twins were on good behavior. Very good behavior since being given over to Ironhide's less than tender care.

Instead, Perceptor reported possible cometary forms picked up by NORAD in Colorado. Definitely merited being woken up, and in the morning, he'd see about putting a team together to go investigate. That wasn't the only matter on the Autobot leader's mind. Arcee's condition and explaining to the humans, personnel changes to deal with it and the possibility he'd been too hasty in agreeing to Rodimus' desire to keep things between them as is.

Any involvement beyond a working relationship would complicate matters between them. And that relationship had been fraught with difficulty from the beginning. Ironhide was right. He had been too hard on Rodimus, now regretted it. The young Prime was trying, had been all along. He'd once been in the same position. And, as Ironhide had pointed out days ago, Kup would rip him a new one if he knew how he'd treated Rodimus.

Rodimus did have friends, as Optimus did, but being Prime was a lonely existence.

Optimus was jolted from his thoughts when he saw a familiar red and black form coming down the corridor toward him.

"Everything all right?" he asked Rodimus.

"Yeah," Hot Rod said. "Just taking care of some stuff."

Optimus raised an optic ridge, interested, but if he was going to get along with Rodimus, he was going to have to learn to trust him.

"I'll see you in the morning, then," Optimus said, nodding, starting on his way again.  
\-----

"What?" Ironhide muttered.

The slight hitch in Springer's intakes as he came out of recharge was enough to wake the older warrior also.

"You were right," Springer said.

Ironhide grunted in response, not really caring at the moment what he was right about.

"About Rodi. But he said they're not going to do anything about it," Springer said.

The black mech sighed. "I know," Ironhide said. "Optimus said much the same thing. But I can tell you he's wrong about his current line of thinking."

Springer propped himself up on an elbow.

"'Hide, don't go interfering," he said.

"Who said I was going to interfere?" Ironhide said, sitting up, caressing Springer's face.

"Don't try and change the subject," Springer said. "I'm serious."

"I know," Ironhide said. "But I want Optimus to be happy and honestly, I think he and Rodi are quite suited for one another."

"That might be, but that's their business," Springer said.

"I won't interfere," Ironhide said.

Satisfied, Springer settled back alongside the big mech.  
\-----

Graham squinted at the bright sunlight. Damn sun. Why the hell couldn't it be cloudy? He'd forgotten his sunglasses in his quarters and now he was paying for it, walking across the base to the Autobot hangar with no way to help block out the sunlight making his aching head pound even harder. He had a rare hangover. Rare because he hadn't had the chance to drink in ages, barring the night before. Lennox gave the men the evening off, which resulted in a barbecue and later, somebody brought out the hooch. They'd all indulged, himself, Epps, and even Lennox, although not to the same extent, obviously.

Maybe Ratchet could suggest a decent hangover remedy that didn't involve raw eggs because the aspirin wasn't helping. Only sleep and quiet would cure his hangover, but he wasn't likely to get either soon.

Graham made for the med bay, deciding a brief stop wouldn't hurt before heading to Optimus' office to discuss the cometary blips from the previous night. However, as he entered Ratchet's domain, it was evident something was definitely wrong.

Optimus Prime was standing just inside the door, arms crossed, surveying the scene before him with steely optics. Ratchet was doubled over on the floor, holding his head, looking like he was in excruciating pain. Red Alert was beside him, wrench in hand.

Sideswipe was sitting on one of the surgical berths, looking amused.

"I was only trying to help," he said, optics bright with mirth. "Not my fault it never occurred to ol' Hatchet here the possibilities. But this whole thing just keeps getting better and better. . ."

"You're not helping," Sunstreaker muttered. The gold twin was standing by Arcee, his expression a mixture of awe and fear as he regarded the femme.

"Ratchet, are you all right?" Optimus asked.

The medic looked up.

"I don't think I'll ever be all right ever again," Ratchet said.

CLANG.

Red Alert subspaced the wrench in her hand as the the sound of Ratchet collapsing to the floor reverberated off the med bay walls.

"Now, if the drama is over, we need to straighten a few things out. Can every one calm down now?" Red Alert said. "Sunstreaker, Arcee, would you rather talk about this in private?"

Arcee looked at Sunstreaker, who shrugged.

"Everyone here already knows, so I don't think it really matters. We'll have to tell everyone eventually anyway," Arcee said.

Red sighed. "All right. Sunstreaker, to answer your question, yes, the spark Arcee is carrying has split. She is carrying twins," she said. "And everything is fine, so far. The two of you have nothing to worry about. Now go. You have much to discuss."

Arcee grabbed Sunstreaker's hand, twined her fingers with his, leading him from the med bay. Red Alert then turned her attention to Sideswipe, not caring she had an audience in her Prime and NEST's human second in command.

"You. . ." Red muttered, grabbing the silver twin by one of his shoulder fins. "I should weld your mouth to the berth for fritzing Ratchet like that. . .then again, I haven't seen him at a loss for words in so long. . .get out before I change my mind about those welds."

Sideswipe grinned as the female medic slapped him on the aft, leaving a confused human and ticked off Prime in his wake.

"That situation could have been handled with more tact," Optimus offered, leaning down to help Red Alert hoist Ratchet onto a berth.

"Tact? Sideswipe doesn't know the meaning of the word," Red Alert said. "Although you do have to admit, it was priceless, wasn't it? Ratchet realizing he's going to be present at the birth of a set of twins belong to one-half of his favorite set of twins?"

"Red, I don't think any of us are ready for *that*," Optimus said.

"No," she said, smiling. "And seeing Ratchet react like this. . .what do you think Prowl will do when he finds out?"

She gave her statement a few seconds to sink in for Optimus' benefit, couldn't bite back the rare grin gracing her features as her leader came to grips with the situation and its fallout.

"You might want to make sure he's here in the med bay when he finds out," Red Alert said. "It'll make him easier to treat."

Optimus didn't respond, simply squeezed the femme's shoulder, walked from the med bay, stopping only long enough for Graham to fall into step beside him. As much as a human could.

"I don't suppose you'd mind explaining all that?" Graham said.

"After the morning briefing," Optimus said.

"All right," Graham said.

"It's too damn early in the day for high grade. . ." Optimus muttered.

Graham stared up at the Autobot leader, not sure he'd heard correctly, but let it slide. It was going to be a very long day for everyone.


	16. Animosity

Precipitous

Part 16-Animosity

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod was surprised to find the morning briefing postponed an hour. It suited him just fine, although no one bothered to tell him why, so he headed for Optimus' office, looking for an explanation. As usual, the door to the Autobot leader's office was open, but instead of finding Optimus working, Hot Rod found him holding his head in his hands, optics offlined.

Optimus didn't look up either, when Hot Rod walked in. Either he was offline or something bad had occurred.

"Optimus?" Hot Rod asked as gently as he could. "What's happened?"

The older Prime sighed, glanced up at Hot Rod.

"Shut the doors and sit down," Optimus said.

Hot Rod did as ordered, optic ridge raised in curiosity as he took a seat across from Optimus.

"First, you were right about Sunstreaker," Optimus said. "He is indeed the sire of Arcee's sparkling. But that's not all."

He sighed. He still couldn't wrap his processor around it, but having seen the holographic projection of the two tiny sparks connected to Arcee's own, he knew the femme was carrying twins. A true blessing. But twins sired by Sunstreaker. . .

"The spark Arcee is carrying has split. She is now carrying twins," Optimus said.

Hot Rod stared at Optimus for a few seconds, then his face split in a grin.

"And you don't see this as a good thing?" Hot Rod asked.

"I do," Optimus said. "But you were not present for the scene Ratchet caused when he found out, aggravated in no small part by Sideswipe."

"What was the problem Ratchet had? Twins, or twins sired by Sunstreaker?" Hot Rod said.

"I'm not sure, but I think it was the part about Sunstreaker and siring twins," Optimus said. "Ratchet did not specify which issue caused him more pain, although I think I owe Red Alert a debt of gratitude for diffusing an already awkward situation."

"Did she do it with a wrench?" Hot Rod asked.

"Yes," Optimus said. "Although it was a relief to see Ratchet humbled in such a manner. Now I know why Springer fears Red Alert more than Ratchet."

"She's a damn good medic," Hot Rod said.

"I know," Optimus said. "That's why I would like her to stay here rather than go back to the Xantium. And now that you're here, we might as well discuss the matter of investigating the cometary forms detected last night."

Hot Rod settled back in his chair, hoping just maybe Optimus wouldn't put him in charge of the mission, but he knew he wasn't that lucky. And the next words out of Optimus' mouth proved that.

"I want you to lead the team in my stead," Optimus said. "I've been thinking about how I can improve things between us Rodimus, and I've come to realize I need to trust you more, and by doing so, I hope you come to understand that you can do this, Rodimus. Being a Prime doesn't mean you have to do this alone. When I became Prime, I had no one to help me through it, no one who knew what I was going through, beyond Kup and Ironhide, who helped me by being there. But I know now I've denied you the benefit of the experience I have, and again I apologize for not being more understanding."

Hot Rod was surprised by such an honest admission from Optimus, but on one hand, it wasn't a surprise. Optimus was an honest mech, but Hot Rod knew he was also proud and stubborn, but not too proud to admit he'd made a mistake.

"It's all right, Optimus," he said. "I've told you before-there is no need for apologies. I know I haven't made this easy for you, and I'm just as much to blame for the way things have been between us. And just so you know, I'm tired of hearing you apologize, so can we talk about something else?"

Optimus raised an optic ridge, but decided Rodimus was right. "Yes," he said. "We have much to discuss."

NEST C-17, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean

Maj. William Lennox surveyed the men around him. The only sound he could hear was the sound of the plane's engines as they winged back home to headquarters. The plane's massive cargo hold, at the moment, was devoid of any Autobots, save one, Rodimus Prime in the guise of the red Dodge Challenger strapped down only a few feet away. Ironhide should have been with them, but he'd been one of the Autobots sent back to Diego Garcia via the Xantium by orbital bounce.

The NEST commander wanted to have words with the young Prime, but he was biding his time until they got back home. Incompetent, insolent, crazy. Just a few words that came to mind. And not to mention the fact *he* was still stinging from the dressing down he'd received from the young Autobot in the middle of combat. Yes, they might've been outnumbered, outgunned, ambushed and losing the fight, but that didn't mean the jackass could disobey orders and go over his head. Literally.

In the middle of the fight, Rodimus had gotten Blaster's attention long enough to tell him to contact the Xantium, radioing for reinforcements. A few seconds later, they had their backup, which arrived by orbital jump. Roadbuster, Scoop, Drift and Sandstorm appeared out of nowhere, evening the fight against the Decepticon combiner called Bruticus.

Lennox sighed, wishing he could push everything from his mind and get some sleep, but he couldn't. A Decepticon ambush could do that to somebody. He'd lost four men. One was one too many, and there were numerous injuries, ranging from serious to minor among his men in addition to the fatalities. And the Autobots. . .both of the cometary forms were Autobots. One was an engineer, whose name he'd heard many times in casual conversation among his Cybertronian friends-Wheeljack. Unfortunately, Wheeljack was in stasis lock.. The other was an Autobot named Kup. Both of them, along with Ironhide and Sideswipe, had been transported to the Xantium along with the rest of her crew. Sideswipe had volunteered to go, mainly to keep an eye on the one named Kup, who'd been more than angry over how things went down. Ironhide's absence was because he'd been ordered to go along to help Sideswipe keep an eye on the ancient Autobot who didn't fight like he was so old.

Another sore spot was the fact the human NEST personnel had a 20-hour flight back to Diego Garcia. Lennox was angry, but at the moment, he was too exhausted to think about it anymore. Closing his eyes, he drifted off to sleep.  
\-----

Confined to the med bay with no one but Perceptor for company wasn't what Kup expected for his reunion with his friends. Nor had he anticipated a Decepticon ambush once arriving on what he now considered a Primus-forsaken backwater. He needed to talk to someone, anyone, about anything that wasn't science. Kup knew his own processor was a little addled, but he was beginning to wonder about the possibility he'd been rendered permanently offline and was now in the Pit. No, that was crazy. But then again, he wasn't sure he completely trusted his optics after the past few hours, despite Perceptor's assurances to the contrary.

"Perceptor, can I talk to Prime? He is here, isn't he? Please, just a few minutes, that's all I want," Kup said.

Perceptor regarded the ancient Autobot with kind optics.

"Prime is currently in conference with our human allies in Washington, D.C. I'll send along a message to Jazz so he can notify Prime you would like to speak with him," he said.

"Thanks," Kup said, settling back on his berth.  
\-----

The conference with Morshower had been brief. The general was satisfied with Optimus' report, Graham reflected, but the Autobot leader's own emotional state after hearing how well the retrieval mission had gone was anyone's guess. Optimus' battle mask was in place, rendering his face unreadable. Not a good sign, Graham thought. Not at all. It would be hours yet before Lennox's and Rodimus' teams landed, but Blaster was in constant communication with the base as well as the Xantium.

"Will the engineer live?" Graham finally asked as he walked with Optimus toward the med bay.

"He could be in stasis lock for years if he's badly damaged," Optimus said. "However, the med bay on the Xantium is far more advanced than what we have here on base, and Ratchet and Red Alert are two of the finest medics Cybertron produced. They stand a good chance of being able to bring him out of it."

"That's good to hear," Graham said.

"Yes," Optimus said as they reached the med bay. Jazz had relayed Kup's desire to speak with him, and he wasn't going to keep him waiting any longer. "Graham, would you please wait here? I would like to speak to Kup alone."

"Yes," Graham said, watching the Autobot leader enter the med bay. Seconds later, Perceptor joined the human in the corridor, giving him a nod as he passed.

A frown graced Kup's worn features. He was sitting on the edge of one of the surgical berth, arms crossed, staring at the taller, younger, wildly painted mech in front of him.

"Flames? Bit ostentatious for a mech like you, ain't it?" Kup asked.

Optimus regarded his former mentor and old friend with a raised optic ridge.

"It's good to see you too, old friend," Optimus said.

"Optimus. . .lad, you have no idea how happy I am to be here," Kup said, standing. He engulfed the Autobot leader in a hug, which Optimus reciprocated.

"Now, would you mind tellin' me what in the Pit is goin' on around here? Was that Hot Rod I saw out there today yellin' orders? Or was I hallucinating?" Kup said.

"It was indeed Hot Rod," Optimus said.

"And what are you doing here?" Kup said.

"Rodim. . .Hot Rod has. . .earned a promotion of sorts," Optimus said, deciding to not broach the subject of Hot Rod's change in status. He figured Rodimus would like to tell Kup himself.

"Must've been some promotion," Kup said, sitting back down on the berth. "The lad still a pain in the aft?"

"You have no idea," Optimus muttered.

"That bad?" Kup asked.

"At times," Optimus said. "However, now is not the time to have this discussion. I have other matters to attend which will keep me occupied until my teams return. Until then Kup, stay here and get some rest, all right?"

Kup nodded. Optimus clapped him on the shoulder, leaving him alone.


	17. Divide

Precipitous

Part 17-Divide

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The sun was setting as the two NEST C-17s taxied to a landing. Optimus Prime watched, waiting, Graham beside him. The ramp on the first descended, humans disembarking before the Autobots. And one human in particular was making straight for the Autobot leader-Lennox, flanked by a reluctant Epps.

"We need to talk," Lennox said as he passed Optimus. He turned, following the human, but stopped, waiting for Rodimus to leave the plane. Optimus watched the red car transform, met the other Prime's optics for a second before Rodimus broke the contact, staring at the ground as he advanced toward him.

Moments later, Optimus was in his office with an angry Lennox, listening to the NEST co-commander discuss at length everything he'd thought had gone wrong.

"Our intel on this was non-existent," Lennox said. "How could those Decepticons have. . ."

"They had almost an entire day to move in on Kup and Wheeljack's position while your team was in transit," Optimus said. "You know how hard it is to detect a Decepticon's presence, even for us. However, if Wheeljack survives, he might have a solution to make them easier to find."

"That still doesn't change anything," Lennox said, trying to resist the urge to pace. "I lost four men, and Rodimus disobeyed a direct order when he contacted the Xantium."

"That may be, but Rodimus saved more lives when he radioed for backup," Optimus said. "I don't condone his actions, but the results did turn the tide of battle in your favor, did they not?"

"Yes," Lennox reluctantly admitted. "But that's not the issue here. The fact is Rodimus defied a direct order. We're supposed to share command. . ."

"Next time. . ." Optimus started, but Lennox waved him off.

"Next time Rodimus is on a mission, he better not be in command," Lennox said. "And just so you know, I'm not blaming him for this fiasco. Not completely anyway."

"If there is any blame to be laid, it is mine," Optimus said. "Making him lead when he is clearly not ready. . ."

"It's nobody's fault," Lennox said. "I mean, I'm just as much to blame for what happened as he was, thinking I knew better. But I want you to know one thing-I just want to make damn sure Rodimus has a clear understanding of the chain of command."  
\-----  
Graham was waiting outside in the corridor with Rodimus, who was leaning against the wall, optics offlined. Epps was standing beside him, mainly for moral support on Rodimus' behalf. The SAS soldier snapped to attention as the door to Optimus' office opened, Lennox walked out.

"At ease," Lennox said. "Epps, Graham, go get some sleep. We'll finish this in the morning."

He looked up at Rodimus, who was staring back.

"Optimus would like to talk to you," Lennox said.

Hot Rod didn't say anything, merely nodded at the human, walked into Optimus' office, not ready to face the Autobot leader. He flinched as the door to the office clanged shut, didn't bother standing at attention. What was the point?

"Why do you persist in disobeying orders?" Optimus asked, sitting back in his chairs, arms crossed. He was in no mood to be gentle, despite circumstances calling for it.

"If I hadn't, I wouldn't be standing here right now and you know as well as I do every one of those humans would've come back in a body bag, if they were lucky," Hot Rod said.

"You disobeyed a direct order to fall back," Optimus said. "Why didn't you issue the call to the Autobots under your command?"

"Because I disagreed with Lennox's assessment of the situation," Hot Rod said. "And more importantly, I wasn't going to leave two Autobots unable to protect themselves in a combat situation."

"So you're saying the life of an Autobot is more valuable than that of a human?" Optimus said.

"No," Hot Rod said. "Hardly, but it was Kup. And Wheeljack was in no condition. . ."

"You made a tactical decision based on your emotions," Optimus said. "Not logic, not using common sense."

Hot Rod clenched a fist in anger. "Common sense dictated I do what was necessary to save lives-Autobot and human," he said. "Contacting the Xantium for backup was my logical conclusion. What was I supposed to do, let those Decepticons slaughter us as we called a retreat?"

"No," Optimus said.

"Are we done then?" Hot Rod said. "I'm too tired to deal with this right now."

"We will deal with it now," Optimus said, voice low and steady.

Hot Rod's optics widened. That tone meant one thing and one thing only-Prime was angry. Furious.

"You've angered Lennox, possibly damaged our rapport with our allies, all because of your arrogance and inexperience," Optimus said.

Hot Rod frowned.

"Arrogance? You think I did what I did out of arrogance?" Hot Rod said, voice rising, but he stopped himself from yelling. "I called the Xantium because I didn't know what else to do. I hardly think that's arrogance. Although on the other hand. . .you want to talk about arrogance, what about you-constantly going on about the legacy of the Primes, our duty, when you hardly practice what you preach. You spend more time behind a desk now trying to keep the humans happy than actually trying. . ."

"That's enough," Optimus growled.

"Can I go then?" Hot Rod asked.

"Hardly," Optimus said. "But I can see nothing I can say or do will make a difference tonight. I only have one more thing to say-I think you're afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Hot Rod snapped.

"Of becoming part of something bigger than yourself, living to serve others instead of living to serve yourself," Optimus said. "That's what it means to be a Prime."

"Save it," Hot Rod said. "I don't need to hear anymore lectures myself."

He turned, walking away.


	18. Concern

Precipitous

Part 18-Concern

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

:I hope you weren't too hard on him:

:Ironhide, leave me alone: Optimus snapped.

:Rodimus was doing his job, your job if you'd taken this mission yourself. Do you and I need to have a discussion about how you *haven't* been specific on what his duties are supposed to be?: Ironhide said. :I know I'm just a soldier and my opinion doesn't count because you're Prime and I'm not, but in this case, I think Rodimus' judgment was sound. He did the right thing. Without backup, none of us would have survived. Even I can admit that. I imagine Lennox agrees too, but he's just angry because Rodimus disobeyed his orders:

:Ironhide, you can give me a full report in the morning. Now go away: Optimus said.

:I'm not done yet:

Seconds later, Optimus found himself hauled off his berth and at Ironhide's feet after the weapons specialist belted him in the jaw.

"What was that for?" Optimus said. "I could have you placed in the brig. . ."

"Try it," Ironhide said. "And just so you know, that was for being stubborn and stupid. You and Rodimus could be sharing a berth now, you could be offering comfort and compassion and instead you send him off again, and I suppose you didn't stop and ask if he was all right? If he needed repairs?"

He watched as Optimus lowered himself back to the floor from where he'd started to stand, offlining and onlining his optics quickly several times in a fair imitation of a human blink.

"Didn't, eh?" Ironhide said. "I should bust you again. . .but the fun I'll know you'll be having beating yourself up over this is enough for me. And wait until Kup finds out. . ."

"Ironhide. . ." Optimus said, a warning in his tone.

"You'll have my report by the end of shift tomorrow," Ironhide said.  
\-----

The door to his quarters was chiming. Hot Rod stood, flinching in pain as he walked to the door. He knew it wasn't Springer because he was still up on the Xantium. Ironhide had the access code and would just let himself in if he wanted. Hot Rod opened the door, sighed when he saw Optimus Prime standing in front of him.

"Have you seen Perceptor yet?" Optimus asked.

"No," Hot Rod said. "It can wait."

He watched as Optimus' optics flared as he ran a scan over the younger Prime. Rodimus was right, but he would need medical attention sooner or later.

"You should go to Perceptor," Optimus gently chided. "You'll feel better. . ."

"The only thing that will make me feel better right now is you leaving," Hot Rod said. "What, didn't get all your shots in earlier?"

"It's my responsibility. . ."

"To what? Rip me again?" Hot Rod said.

"To make sure everyone under my command is in optimal operating conditions to do their duty," Optimus finished.

"Well, I'm not, so why don't you throw me in the brig or pull me off active duty and get it over with," Hot Rod said. "Instead of hiding behind talk of responsibility and duty. Don't you ever do anything because you want to? Why do you have to have a *reason* to do everything? Why does everything with you have to have a justification? Before you talked of serving others, that that's what it is to be a Prime. But what about you, Optimus? Is there anything left of who you used to be?"

Optimus hesitated before answering. He was Prime. No one else. Until now.

"I am still Optimus," he said. "But I am Prime. That comes first. Nothing else. The burden I've carried for so long is not one I would wish upon another, yet you have been chosen, as I was. And I've never meant for this to be so difficult, Rodimus. . ."

Hot Rod regarded him, his expression unreadable for several moments before he spoke.

"You're right-when you said I was afraid. I am. I'm afraid of losing myself," Hot Rod said. "Everything's changed, and no one treats me the same and I don't know where I stand anymore. . ."

"You. . ." Optimus started, but Hot Rod waved him off.

"Look, I've said and done enough for one night. So have you," Hot Rod said. "Can we drop it for now? Please?"

Optimus nodded, watched the door shut in his face.  
\-----

0800\. Time to be up and around. Hot Rod rolled off his berth, almost made it to the med bay without getting caught, but Ironhide managed to sneak up on him.

"You should have taken care of those repairs last night," Ironhide said, falling into step beside the younger Autobot. "But you're lucky. Ratchet and Red Alert are still up on the Xantium attending to Wheeljack, so it's Perceptor you'll get. And if you're worrying about seeing Kup, he let himself out of the med bay when Perceptor wasn't looking. I'm supposed to be looking for him."

Hot Rod stopped.

"How is Wheeljack?"

"He's alive," Ironhide said. "Last time I checked they were beginning the process to bring him out of stasis lock before transferring him to one of the ship's CR chambers. Once it's complete, Ratchet plans on returning to base, so I'd get those repairs taken care of now if I were you."

"At least some good came of last night," Hot Rod said.

"You kept others from dying," Ironhide said. "I'd say it wasn't all bad. And you're not the only one who received a reprimand, although Will's was much tamer than yours, and it was in front of Optimus, Graham, Epps, myself, and the rest of the humans in the command center. Gen. Morshower wasn't completely happy with the way the situation was handled on the human side, either."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Hot Rod said.

"I expected as much," Ironhide said. "Get those repairs taken care of and grab some energon. We all have a long day ahead of us."

\-----  
Graham was leaning comfortably against Hot Rod, who was in his vehicular mode. This time he'd remembered his sunglasses. Human and Cybertronian were watching Skids and Mudflap evade weapons fire from Ironhide, Jazz and Sunstreaker.

"Think Optimus will say anything when he finds out they're using live ammunition?" Graham asked.

"Probably," Hot Rod said. "But he's not here, is he?"

Hot Rod revved his engine suddenly as Skids and Mudflap slid to a stop beside him. Graham stepped away.

"Boys, let a professional show you how it's done," Hot Rod said, smoking his tires and leaving the stench of burning rubber hanging in the air as he peeled out.  
\-----

Sideswipe sat down on Prowl's desk. It wasn't an unusual occurrence, quite the opposite. The second in command was used to working with either Jazz or Sideswipe perched on his desk beside him, although Jazz was usually working also. Sideswipe just talked while he worked. At the moment, Prowl was glad for the distraction. He was in charge (again) because Optimus and Lennox had been called away to deal with a Decepticon sighting. It did feel good to be back on duty, assuming his responsibilities again and as usual, Optimus had been overworking himself and pushing Rodimus too far. His leader needed a good talking-to and he planned on working it into his schedule when he could. Collaborating with Jazz would work best, and it would have more impact and oh wait Perceptor had already put in a request for a full-fledged lab? Prowl pinched the bridge of his nose, set down one data pad and picked up another, half-heartedly listening to the silver twin.

"I guess you know about Arcee then," Sideswipe said.

"You were there when I removed her name from the active duty roster," Prowl said, continuing to sort data pads according to department and priority level. "And I am well aware of the fact she is now carrying."

"So you don't know who the sire is?" Sideswipe asked.

"No, because that is Arcee's business," Prowl said. "Such knowledge, at least to me, is irrelevant. I'm not a gossip, like you."

"Then you don't want to know that Arcee is carrying twins?" Sideswipe said.

Prowl's head snapped up, the data pad in his hands set down. Blue optics suddenly locked on Sideswipe's own.

"Twins?" Prowl said.

"Yup," Sideswipe said.

Prowl stood, grabbed Sideswipe by the shoulder.

"Twins? Arcee is carrying twins?" he said.

"Didn't you hear me the first time?" Sideswipe said. "And that's got me thinking lately. . .Not that I want to upstage Sunny or anything, but. . .I'd like to do my part to help ensure the survival of our race and all that and I was wondering. . . if I could enlist your assistance? It's down to you or Jazz, but I thought I'd ask you first. Your processor, my looks-that would be one lucky sparkling. . ."

Fingers suddenly dug into Sideswipe's armor. The sensation wasn't unpleasant, but the look on Prowl's face was suddenly a little confused.

"What does Sunstreaker have to do with Arcee carrying twins?" Prowl said.

It suddenly crossed Sideswipe's mind that Prowl finding out about Sunny's impending fatherhood like he had probably wasn't a good idea.

"Uh. . ." was all Sideswipe could muster because Prowl was nearly nose to nose with him, optics blazing almost white.

"You mean to tell me *SUNSTREAKER* is the sire of Arcee's offspring?" Prowl said.

Sideswipe gave the barest of nods. Suddenly, Prowl's optics darkened, a popping sound emanated from his head as connections in his processor blew, and the second in command's body hit the floor before Sideswipe could react.


	19. Distraction

Precipitous

Part 19-Distraction

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

"Any word?" Hot Rod asked Jazz as they walked down the corridor to the med bay.

"Not yet," Jazz said. "But it's only been seven hours, so it'll be a while yet before they send us back anything beyond routine communication."

Hot Rod sighed.

"What was that for?" Jazz asked.

"Do you really need to ask?" Hot Rod said. "At least if this mission heads south, Optimus is responsible, not me."

"That's not a nice thing to say," Jazz said.

"I know," Hot Rod said. "But it's the truth."

"That might be, but do I need to remind you to show a little respect?" Jazz said.

"Jazz, I'm sorry," Hot Rod said. "It's just that. . ."

"I heard all about it this morning while you were in the med bay," Jazz said. "And I've read Ironhide's report. I know you're not happy with Optimus right now, but you two need to give each other a chance, really get to know one another."

"Like that'll happen," Hot Rod muttered as they turned inside the med bay.

Ratchet looked up when he saw the young Prime and Autobot third in command. The medic was standing beside a berth occupied by Prowl, who was glaring up at him.

"I don't suppose you two have cornered Sideswipe yet?" Ratchet asked.

"Haven't even tried yet, but Sunny's lookin' for him," Jazz said. "How's Prowler?"

"Better," Ratchet said, smiling down at Prowl, who, if he didn't know better, looked like he was pouting.

"So, what did Sideswipe do to put Prowl in here?" Hot Rod said.

"Ask Prowl," Ratchet said. "This is too good to pass up hearing again, although I think I'm going to kill Sideswipe for giving me more nightmares. . ."

"Do I have to?" Prowl asked.

Ratchet crossed his arms, gazing down calmly at Prowl, then switched his attention to Rodimus.

"In light of Prowl's latest convalescence, I'm pulling him from active duty. Again. I expect you and Jazz will work out the command details between yourselves, and can reach a suitable arrangement that will work out until Prime returns" Ratchet said. "And I am now asking as a personal favor to me-I am not asking lightly, mind you-please go find Sideswipe and keep Sunstreaker from killing him."

Hot Rod glanced at Jazz, who shrugged. "I'll assume command, if it's all right with you, and you can take the watch tonight in ops," Jazz said.

The young Prime nodded, walking from the med bay. Once he was gone, Jazz turned his attention back to Prowl. Ratchet gone back to his office.

"C'mon, Prowler," Jazz said, flashing his best smile. "Spill. What happened this time?"

Prowl sighed.

"Sideswipe informed me that Arcee is carrying twins, twins sired by Sunstreaker," he said. "And the slagger. . .I'm going to kill him. I'm flattered, but I'm going to kill him. . ."

"What else did he do?" Jazz asked.

Prowl frowned.

"What makes you think he did anything else?" he asked.

Jazz sat down on the berth beside Prowl. "Because when Sideswipe makes you fritz, it's usually epic," he said. "This is no exception."

Another sigh from Prowl, who was now staring at the floor.

"Sideswipe propositioned me," Prowl said.

Jazz crossed his arms, choosing not to address that just yet.

"So which part made you fritz?" Jazz asked.

"I think the part about Sunstreaker becoming a sire," Prowl said. "Please tell me I was hearing things. . ."

"There's nothing wrong with your hearing, Prowler," Jazz said.

Prowl rubbed his head. "I think I'm going to be sick," he said.

Jazz patted him on the shoulder.

"It'll be all right, Prowler," he said. "And besides, it's taken Sunny down a notch or two, humbled him a little, so the situation can't be all bad, can it?"

"Hasn't helped Sideswipe's ego any at all," Prowl muttered.

"About 'Sides," Jazz said. "If you're flattered he's interested, why don't you do something about it?"

Prowl locked optics with Jazz. "Because I don't think he was serious," he said.

"You never know," Jazz said. "Look, get some rest, OK?"

He stood, walking from the med bay. The third in command was going to find out just how serious Sideswipe was.  
\-----

Ironhide and Kup stopped when they saw Sideswipe running down the corridor, Sunstreaker hot on his heels.

"You're dead!" Sunstreaker yelled, but he skidded to a halt when he saw just who it was standing in the corridor staring at him like he was crazy. Well, at the moment, he was more than a little crazy, circumstances being what they were.

"Kup?" Sunstreaker said, optic ridge raised. "What are you doing out of the med bay? I thought you were confined there?"

"I decided to take a walk," Kup said.

"I was just escorting him back, taking the long way around," Ironhide said.

"Same old Kup," Sunstreaker said, swallowing his pride long enough to engulf the ancient mech in a hug before taking off again after Sideswipe.

"What's that all about?" Kup asked.

Ironhide shrugged.

"You know how those two are," Ironhide said.

"Tell me about it," Kup said. "Two of the craziest Autobots I ever trained."

"Speaking of crazy, I better get you back to the med bay before Ratchet comes looking for us," Ironhide said.

Kup hmphed. He didn't really want to go back, but he knew his friend was right.

"Yeah, don't want ol' Hatchet to blow a gasket," he said.  
\-----

Hot Rod found Sideswipe and Sunstreaker out on the tarmac-Sunstreaker had Sideswipe in a headlock with one arm, was trying to pound his brother's head with the other but Sideswipe had his hand in a death grip.

"He had to find out, I mean, it's Prowlie. . .how long's it been since we did anything to him? C'mon Sunny, get over it already. . .*everybody* knows anyway, well, not Kup and Wheeljack but. . ." Sideswipe stopped when he heard weapons onlining, grinning up at Rodimus.

:He's not gonna hurt me too much: Sideswipe told the other Autobot over his internal comm.

:I'm gonna hurt him a lot if he doesn't let go of you: Hot Rod said. :And let's not forget about Ratchet:

"Let him go," Hot Rod said. "I'm in no mood, so if you don't want your aft shot off. . ."

Sunstreaker glared at the young Prime, but he let go of his brother. Hot Rod offlined his weapons.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Hot Rod said. "Do you two think you can keep from pounding each other for just one day? If not that, a few hours? Please?"

"Why should we do anything you say?" Sunstreaker said. "You might be a Prime, but you're not *the* Prime. You don't scare me."

"Because I can run interference with Optimus," Hot Rod said. "Just think about that the next time you pull a prank."

He walked away, leaving the twins contemplating his words.


	20. Clash

Precipitous

Part 20-Clash

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Kup grinned at Ratchet as he walked into the med bay. Prowl perked up, rare mirth in his optics as he sat up, welcoming anything that would make his stay in the med bay more interesting.

Ratchet looked the ancient Autobot up and down, raised an optic ridge. Kup was no longer in his protoform.

"I thought I warned you about trans-scanning anything until I gave you a clean bill of health," Ratchet said. "You need rest and energon. . ."

"Stow it," Kup said. "I know all that."

"Yet you defied medical orders anyway," Ratchet said, frowning. "You're just lucky I've had Prowl to occupy my attention."

"What are you in for?" Kup asked, sitting down on the berth across from Prowl's."

"Crashed logic center," Prowl said.

"You mean Ratchet hasn't figured out how to fix that yet?" Kup said.

"I'll fix you if you don't shut up," Ratchet said.

"Then I guess asking about Hot Rod is out of the question?" Kup said.

"No, it's not," Ratchet said. "You'll get to see him soon enough, and Springer will be back tomorrow with Prime's team. So relax and rest."

"If I didn't know better, I'd swear Hot Rod was avoiding me," Kup started to speak but the look he received from Ratchet made him think twice.

"Hot Rod has been busy with his duties," Ratchet said. "As have we all. I don't think he's avoiding you. There's nothing to worry about."

Kup raised an optic ridge, noticing the glance exchanged by Prowl and Ratchet, but settled back on his berth, dismissing it.

:Why don't you just tell Kup the truth?: Prowl asked.

:Because it is not my place. Nor is it yours: Ratchet said. :I believe this is something important enough for Rodimus to share himself. Becoming a Prime is not something that happens everyday:

:How do you think Kup will take the news?: Prowl asked.

:No telling: Ratchet said. :Rest:  
\-----

The night watch was quiet. So far. This night, Hot Rod was in charge of a skeleton crew-Arcee, Jolt and Perceptor. Both Arcee and Jolt were being diligent about their monitor duty. Perceptor, however, was multitasking-he was occasionally glancing down at a data pad in his hand he was trying to hide beneath his console.

Hot Rod knew he should've said something about it, but Perceptor was allowed to be distracted, just a little. He was worried about Wheeljack, who had only been transferred to one of the Xantium's CR chambers hours before. The engineer's condition was stable, much to everyone's relief. And as long as Perceptor wasn't reading about anything that would blow up the base, Hot Rod guessed it was OK for him to be reading.

Then there was the matter of Arcee's presence on the watch. Hot Rod had been informed by Jazz earlier that she was cleared for monitor duty. As long as she wasn't stressed or pushing herself too hard, she was allowed that much. But Hot Rod knew anyone keeping Arcee from pushing herself wouldn't do much good.

Thoughts of being pushed too hard cycled his own processor around to Optimus. Crazy, stubborn slagger. Maybe not crazy, but he was stubborn. Immovable. But then again, Hot Rod reflected, he was the same way sometimes, especially now, when it came to his decision to keep his relationship with Optimus as it was. And trying to work together, settle their differences only seemed to make things worse.

He pushed those thoughts from his mind, instead, thinking about Kup. He wanted to see him, figured waiting for Springer to return would be best, so they could see Kup together. And as for telling his old mentor he was now a Prime, well, that he would do in private. That settled, Hot Rod sighed. Eight hours to go on watch. Eight hours too many.  
\-----

Jazz stood in front of the door to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's quarters, arms crossed, contemplating how best to approach the situation at hand. He knew Sunny wasn't inside. No, the gold twin was recharging in Arcee's quarters. Sideswipe was alone. And the slagger wanted Prowl? Well, he'd find out for sure in a few moments. How he felt about that he didn't know yet. He could mull it over later. For now, he had Sideswipe to scare.

Sideswipe was recharging peacefully. No nocturnal activities on Sunny's part to keep him awake. At least it was until he found himself not so alone his quarters. The silver twin tried to move but he couldn't. He was stuck fast to the berth. Jazz was suddenly looming over him, causing Sideswipe to realize the special ops commander was using his electromagnetic field to keep him pinned.

"Hey 'Sides," Jazz said.

"Jazz," Sideswipe replied casually. "What can I do for you?"

"Answer a few questions," Jazz said.

Sideswipe tried to raise his head, but he was stuck fast.

"If this about the missing flash grenades, that wasn't me. . ." he said.

"I don't care about missing flash grenades," Jazz said. "But now that you mention it, you can tell me who stole them from the armory later. I'm actually here about Prowl."

"Prowl? He's fine, isn't he?" Sideswipe asked.

"Now," Jazz said.

"Look, if this is about blowing his processor, I'm sorry. Kind of," Sideswipe said. "You shoulda seen the sparks flying. . .kinda pretty. . ."

He stopped. Prowl, eh? This was interesting.

"I've seen it before," Jazz said. "Although you could've been a little more tactful with the way you told him about Sunny and Arcee."

"He would've crashed anyway," Sideswipe said.

"Uh huh," Jazz said. "I know. But that's not my concern. When you. . .propositioned Prowl, were you being serious, or were you kidding around? If you're serious about him, that's fine, but if you're not. . ."

The lights suddenly went off in Sideswipe's head. Jazz liked Prowl, eh? This could work out to everyone's mutual benefit if he worked it right. . .

"I do like Prowl," Sideswipe said. "I wouldn't bug him so much if I didn't. I mean, I told him if he wasn't up to, uh, you know. . .Sunny's situation got me to thinking, and I figured if Prowl didn't want to help me, maybe you would. . ."

"What in the Pit are you talking about?" Jazz said. "Now I know you're not being serious."

"I was, I mean, I am," Sideswipe said. "How long have the three of us been friends?

"A long time," Jazz said.

"Yeah," Sideswipe said. "But have you ever given any thought to being more than that?"  
\-----

Sunstreaker was still wondering how he'd let Arcee to convince him to apologize to Sideswipe for his attempted fratricide earlier that day. It was late, late enough he wanted to be back in recharge with the femme, but she wouldn't let him back in her quarters until he apologized to Sideswipe. The gold twin really hadn't done anything besides chase his brother around, thanks to Rodimus. Maybe he should've let *him* knock some sense into 'Sides. Primus knew he needed, being interested in Prowl. Prowl. The hard-assed, by the rules, always right no matter what stickler for rules, protocol, second in command to their Prime.

Crazy damn slagger brother had even propositioned their second in command. Huge breach of protocol worthy of significant time in the brig, had to be, Sunstreaker thought, yet 'Sides was still running free. Unless of course Prowl wanted to be with Sideswipe. . .Oh Primus. . .And what if they they did get together and managed to spark an offspring of their own?

Sunstreaker reached out a hand to steady himself against the wall. It was Primus' revenge for all the pranks they'd pulled over the years, had to be. Although what would Ratchet do if Prowlie and 'Sides got together? That thought made him grin as he rounded the corner into the quarters he shared with his twin. Wait a minute why was the door already open? And why was Jazz there? With 'Sides pinned?

"Am I interrupting something?" Sunstreaker said sarcastically.

Jazz's head snapped around, causing his concentration to lag long enough for his magnetic field to falter, allowing Sideswipe to sit up.

"Just having a discussion," Sideswipe said.

"Yup," Jazz said.

Sunstreaker crossed his arms.

"About what?" he asked.

"Nothing," Sideswipe said.

"Doesn't look like nothing to me," Sunstreaker said.

Sunny, get out. It's OK, Sideswipe said through their bond.

Doesn't look like it. This wouldn't be about Prowl, would it? Is Jazz jealous? Sunstreaker asked.

Are you out of your mind? Sideswipe said. Sunny, butt out before I kick you out. What're you doing here anyway?

I came to apologize for my behavior earlier, but I don't think I'm the one who needs to be apologizing, Sunstreaker said.

Arcee made you come? That's sweet, Sideswipe said.

Sweet? Are you calling me sweet?

And here I thought the fact you're going to be a sire had actually helped your ego. Guess I was wrong, Sideswipe said.

Sunstreaker suddenly launched himself at his twin, tackling him to the ground. Jazz decided it was the perfect opportunity to teach both twins a lesson. He onlined his weapons. taking careful aim to hit Sideswipe in the aft. The silver twin rolled off Sunstreaker, howling in pain, grabbing his smoking posterior.

"Thanks, Jazz," Sunstreaker said.

"Don't thank me yet," Jazz said, punching Sunstreaker in the face. "Hope I didn't cause too much damage."  
\-----

Hot Rod held his throbbing head in both hands, staring down at Optimus's desk, avoiding the gaze of the two mechs standing across the desk from him. Ironhide regarded him with amusement; Ratchet with annoyance.

"Please tell me you're letting Prowl out of the med bay," Hot Rod said, finally looking up at Ratchet.

"He's staying there until morning, and he's off duty for at least a day," the medic said. "Prowl doesn't need anymore stress."

Neither do I, Hot Rod thought, but he didn't vocalize his annoyance.

"You asked my opinion on the matter of leadership until Optimus returns, and I believe you should take command," Ratchet said. "I nominate Ironhide as your second in command. The others should be back sometime today, so you won't be in charge that long."

"Long enough," Hot Rod muttered.

"Do you require anything else?" Ratchet asked.

"Could you declare me unfit for duty?" Hot Rod said.

"I think one ranking officer confined to quarters for one night is enough," Ratchet said. "Good night, Rodimus."

Suddenly the urge to smash his head on Optimus' desk until he was unconscious was almost overwhelming. Instead, Hot Rod counted to 10, hoping the stress he was feeling would lessen. But it didn't.

"I'd say some high grade was in order, but considering you're now in charge, it'll have to wait," Ironhide said. "Look at this as a learning experience."

"Ironhide, you're not helping," Hot Rod said.

"Is there anything that would?" Ironhide said.

"I don't know," Hot Rod said. "Maybe an explanation as to why Jazz unloaded on the twins?"

"Stress? Annoyance?" Ironhide said. "Look on the bright side-at least it wasn't Skids and Mudflap this time."

Hot Rod snorted.

"Rodimus, I can take the rest of the watch if you'd like," Ironhide said. "Go get some rest. I'll comm you if there's anything out of the ordinary or we hear from Optimus and Lennox. Go Rodi. Don't argue with me."


	21. Relinquish

Precipitous

Part 20-Relinquish

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod stood at attention, listening dutifully as Gen. Morshower talked about the the personnel changes coming up over the next few weeks. The humans in the NEST team currently on their way back to base were being granted two weeks' leave once they were back. Graham would be in charge of the human portion of NEST, which Hot Rod could live with. He respected Lennox, could work with him, but Graham would be easier to get along with.

"I take it everything's running smoothly there?" Morshower asked.

"Fine, sir," Hot Rod said. "And we've heard from Optimus' team. They'll be landing around 1000 hours."

"How did the hunt go?" Morshower said.

"I don't have all the details, sir," Hot Rod said.

"Contact me when they land," Morshower said.

"Will do, sir," Hot Rod said.

The human technicians cut the transmission while Graham stared up at Rodimus.

"Taking Prime lessons from Optimus?" Graham said, stifling a grin.

"No," Hot Rod said. "I don't want a lecture on protocol, so I might as well do things the way they're expected."

The young mech walked from the operations center outside, Graham following.

"So how's it feel to be *the* Prime for once?" Graham asked.

"I'm only in charge 'till Optimus gets here," Hot Rod said. "So don't go giving anyone ideas."

"Me? Ideas?" Graham said. "Look, it wasn't my idea to paintball Skids and Mudflap that time. . .blame it on Epps. And you didn't hear that from me."

"No, but I can recall a couple of incidents where you had what you called 'brilliant' ideas that backfired," Hot Rod said.

"I didn't get caught, did I?" Graham said. "No one knows you were involved, either, so I'd say they were brilliant."

"Perceptor won't let me in the lab without what he calls 'adult supervision,'" Hot Rod said. "How embarrassing is that?"

"A small price to pay," Graham said. "You could use a little more fun in your life. Jazz has told me some stories about the chaos you and Springer used to cause. . ."

"Like Jazz is so mature," Hot Rod said. "Take last night for instance."

"Still confined to quarters?"

"For now," Hot Rod said.

"Anything else I need to know before the teams return?" Graham said.

"Not really," Hot Rod said. "Wait-do you know about Arcee?"

"I know she's expecting," Graham said.

"That's all?"

Graham nodded.

"She's carrying twins," Hot Rod said. "She's been pulled off the active duty roster until she births them."

"Twins?" Graham said, stopping.

"Yes, twins," Hot Rod said.

"May I ask about the. . .father?" Graham said.

"Sunstreaker."

Graham paled but recovered quickly.

"I take it nobody's told Lennox?" Hot Rod said.

"No," Graham said.

Hot Rod grinned. He'd be sure either Ironhide or Optimus had to tell the human NEST commander. They would get to explain the nature of Cybertronian reproduction to the humans.  
\-----  
Weariness pervaded every inch of Optimus Prime's frame. He was headed to the med bay, cradling his left arm, which was, for lack of a better word, mangled. He'd managed to transform to get on the plane and again once he was back on the ground at Diego Garcia, and now he needed medical attention. His energon reserves were low and so was his self-confidence.

They'd fought the same Decepticons Rodimus and his team had faced days before, the combat unit known as the Combaticons. His own team had fared barely better than Rodimus, although their mission had been extermination, not retrieval. No one died, but the Decepticons managed another retreat.

Now, the Autobot leader struggled to remain standing as he turned into the med bay. Ratchet and Kup were suddenly by his side, helping him to a berth.

"You should have called for help," Ratchet admonished, taking stock of his leader's injuries. Kup stood back, watching.

"Didn't. . .didn't need it," Optimus muttered.

"The Pit you don't," Ratchet said. "That arm's going to have to come off. And your chest is damaged. What happened-did you get stepped on by something big?"

Optimus suddenly was suddenly looking at the floor.

"..Now." Ratchet said.

"Thrown. Then stepped on," Optimus said.

Ratchet spared his leader a glance as he turned to grab instruments he needed.

"Before you do anything, I must speak with Rodimus," Optimus said.

"Like hell you will," Ratchet said. "You need repairs now. Are you feeling weak? Vision dimming?"

Optimus managed a feeble nod.

"Your spark chamber is damaged," Ratchet said.

Optimus didn't respond, as his optics dimmed momentarily as he commed Rodimus. Seconds later, the other Prime came skidding to a halt inside the med bay.

"What is it. . ." Hot Rod stopped when he saw Ratchet disconnecting Optimus' damaged arm from his body.

"Even though he doesn't look like it, he's badly damaged," Ratchet said.

"I'm putting you in charge," Optimus said.

"Prowl. . ."

"Do not argue with me Rodimus," Optimus said, scowling at the younger Prime with a mixture of pain and anger.

Ratchet then shoved Optimus back on the berth.

"I can't work on you with that. . .thing still inside you," the medic said. "It's gotta go."

"Then Rodimus will carry the Matrix temporarily," Optimus said.

Ratchet turned to Kup, who was looking more than a little confused. "Out. Now."

The ancient mech stood his ground until Ratchet grabbed him and tossed him out of the med bay. Once back inside, Ratchet watched Optimus hand the artifact called the Matrix to his counterpart. For a second, Rodimus stood, staring down at the glowing thing in his hand before parting his chest armor and nestling it inside his own body. Satisfied, Optimus settled back on the berth, ready for Ratchet to work on him.

"Get Red down here now," Ratchet said.

Hot Rod nodded, left the med bay, giving Optimus a glance as he did. Once outside, he found Kup waiting for him.

"What was that all about?" Kup asked.

"Nothing, Kup. I can't talk about it now," Hot Rod said.

"Lad. . ."

"Kup, I've gotta go. I'm sorry," Hot Rod said.

Kup watched him walk away, saddened.


	22. Grasp

Precipitous

Part 22-Grasp

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ironhide heard the yelling outside the Autobot hangar, recognized the voices, surprised *they* would raise their voices at each other. He walked outside, greeted first by the sight of Lennox and Graham standing almost nose to nose in an uncharacteristic display of aggression. The weapons specialist also noticed Skids and Mudflap standing at a respectable distance from the arguing humans, watching with fascination.

"I'm not leaving with Rodimus in charge," Lennox said. "Now get out of the way so I can see if this is what Optimus actually wanted. . ."

"Gen. Morshower already approved it and you've been ordered home on leave," Graham said.

"I don't think so," Lennox said. "Rodimus isn't fit to lead NEST. You know it too."

"Sir, in this case, I disagree," Graham said.

Lennox raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms, backing off. He had to hear his second in command's reasoning.

"You disagree? Rodimus is a. . .a kid. He's a fighter, but he's no leader. And I cannot, in good conscience, leave him half in charge of *my* outfit," Lennox said. "Why do you think this is a good idea?"

"Sir, I never said it was a good idea to leave Rodimus in charge," Graham said. "But like it or not, Optimus Prime wants. . ."

Suddenly, the sun was blocked out by the looming shape of Ironhide. Both humans looked upward at the Autobot.

"Enough," Ironhide said.

"Ironhide, I need to. . ." Lennox started.

"You have a plane to catch," Ironhide said. "This place is not your concern for the next two weeks. And Graham is right-Optimus has his reasons for putting Rodimus in charge."

Lennox sighed, suitably cowed by the appearance of his friend. "Speaking of Optimus, how is he?"

"The last I heard, Ratchet and Red Alert were still working on him," Ironhide said.

"I know he took some heavy damage. . ."

"He will recover," Ironhide said.

"How can you be so sure?" Lennox said.

Ironhide didn't get a chance to answer as Epps came running up, grabbing Lennox by the arm.

"I sure hope you packed," he said. "I've been looking all over for you. C'mon, we're gonna miss our plane. . ."  
\-----

Past time for shift to be over, but Ratchet was just now finishing up the repairs on Optimus Prime. The crazy fragger would live, but life temporarily would not be very pleasant, Ratchet reflected. He reached up to his head, disconnecting a cable that ran from himself to Optimus's own helm. The hardline connection now broken, he was satisfied with his work. He'd used the connection to power down many of his leader's systems-anything that had nothing to do with rest and repair. And of course, there had been a disagreement. One-sided on Optimus' part, but the medic had put his leader down hard. He'd be out 12 hours at least.

Red Alert met his optics.

"What?" Ratchet asked.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you about how stubborn Prime is," she said.

Ratchet allowed himself a tired smile. "Don't apologize," he said.

"Do you want me to stay with him a while?" Red Alert said.

"No," Ratchet said. "Get a little rest, then get yourself back up to the Xantium to keep an eye on Wheeljack. I can watch Prime. If I need anything, I can always call Perceptor."

Red Alert nodded, leaving the med bay, leaving Ratchet to stand vigil over his leader.  
\-----

Prowl stood in Optimus Prime's office, staring down the Autobot sitting in Prime's place. Rodimus was being stubborn. And the second in command could be just as stubborn. He had patience and not to mention years of experience in dealing with an obstinate Prime. Prowl could feel the stress rolling off Rodimus, could see it in his frame. Logic, in this situation, dictated a direct approach. Direct but not blunt. Calm and logical. Rational. However, Prowl's experience with Rodimus as Prime and before he was elevated to that rank showed the young mech's response would be anything but logical when confronted. Except sometimes, like now, the odds dictated otherwise. Prowl was willing to give Rodimus the benefit of the doubt and go from there. If the situation degraded to a yelling match, he'd bring in reinforcements.

"Rodimus, I know I'm not supposed to be here right now, but I am the second in command of the Autobot forces. Forces you now command, albeit temporarily," Prowl said. "I'm here to help. It's my job."

Rodimus said nothing, only continued to stare at Prowl, who stared back. A standoff. Lovely. Maybe Optimus had blown a processor in leaving Rodimus in charge, but he was their Prime. He had to follow orders. He would follow orders, even if he didn't totally agree, like now, but he understood Optimus' logic. If it could be called that, Prowl thought wryly. Rodimus needed to learn to lead, would only do so by leading. And as second in command, Prowl could offer his experience and try and lessen the burden of leadership. His duty and honor would let him do no less. He would do so out of loyalty, respect and friendship to Optimus. Despite their differences, Prowl owed Rodimus no less.

"I'm not here to tell you how to run things," Prowl said. "You're going to have to figure that out on your own. You do have potential, Rodimus, just don't sell yourself short. Optimus left you in charge. Not me. That has to mean something to you, doesn't it?"

"Prowl, you're supposed to be off duty," Hot Rod said. "Ratchet will kill us both if he finds out you're here. . ."

Prowl allowed himself a small smile at Rodimus' response.

"I'm not worried about Ratchet," he said.

"Fine then," Hot Rod said. "Get to work."  
\-----

2357\. Hot Rod stood, walked out of Optimus' office, not giving it a second thought as he left. The day was never going to end, wasn't over yet. He'd spent the afternoon suffering through another teleconference with Morshower, although Graham was there beside him, making the long talk with the general more tolerable. That was followed by Perceptor's discovery of missing flammable chemicals from the lab and the the spectacle of the scientist snapping at Sideswipe in ops. Snapping was an understatement. Sideswipe pinned to the wall by Perceptor was a sight the young Prime would not soon forget. That sight was accompanied by accusations that the silver twin was the one filching various supplies for pranks. However, it somehow came out in the middle of everything that Tracks had stolen the supplies, trying to pin it on the twins in yet another prank war gone wrong.

Tracks was now serving time in the Xantium's brig with Skids and Mudflap as guards. Ironhide had helpfully offered their services, saying it would help build character and help along their training while at the same time giving them more responsibility.

Now, crises averted momentarily, Hot Rod had one more thing to do before turning in for the night. He entered the med bay, startled by the sight of Optimus Prime's condition. His right arm was missing, as as was the armor covering the right half of his chest, bare to his protoform, leaving his spark exposed.

"He's quite all right," Ratchet said. "If that alleviates your fears."

"Not much," Hot Rod said.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Ratchet said. "Make no mistake-his injuries were life-threatening, but he will recover. In the morning I will be better able to give you a time table for his recovery, but now, even I need rest."

"You're leaving him alone?" Hot Rod said.

"Hardly," Ratchet said. "Perceptor is going to stay with him a while, but he's still in the lab and he isn't responding to my comm. If you don't mind waiting here until I come back, I'll go get Perceptor."

"Not a problem," Hot Rod said.

Ratchet left the med bay, leaving him alone with Optimus. Hot Rod stared down at the Autobot leader's prone form, optics then straying to the monitors attached to him. All the readouts were within normal operating parameters. Hot Rod knew that much.

Abruptly, his attention was focused back on Optimus when he heard the other mech groan, reaching blindly for something with his remaining arm. Hot Rod reached out, grabbing Optimus' hand.

"It's all right," he said.

"Rodimus. . ." Optimus said.

"You should be resting," Hot Rod said.

"I know," Optimus said. "But I could feel the presence of the Matrix. . .and through it, you. It's strange, not having it within me. . ."

"You can have it back," Hot Rod said. "But I don't think Ratchet would be very happy with me."

"No," Optimus said. "But I am glad you are here. I was dreaming. . .I was in a dark place, and I could not return. . ."

"You're safe," Hot Rod said, giving Optimus' had a squeeze.  
\-----

One cube of high grade wouldn't hurt. Just what the medic ordered, Ratchet reflected as he polished off the container Perceptor had offered. He'd been gone from the med bay exactly 25.7899 minutes. He needed his rest and Perceptor needed to get his aft down to the med bay. Not that he didn't trust Rodimus, but the young Prime needed his rest as well. Ratchet knew he hadn't recharged in almost two days and fully intended to make sure he had at least a few hours before his next full demanding day as Autobot leader.

"Perceptor, we really need to. . ." Ratchet said.

"Devote our attention to our assigned duties," the scientist finished. "I am well aware I need to be in the med bay."

He stood, waiting for Ratchet to join him as he started on his way down the corridor.

"I hear Optimus incurred his injuries in a rather unconventional fashion," Perceptor said.

"He was thrown and stepped on by Bruticus," Ratchet said. "Our beloved Prime decided he would take him on all by himself."

"I believe he has a grossly underdeveloped ability to estimate odds," Perceptor offered. "That or he does not understand the definition of the word 'outnumbered.'"

Ratchet smiled at Perceptor. "Or he takes self-sacrifice too seriously," the medic said. "He's proved that already."

"Yes," Perceptor said. "Has Rodimus been informed of Optimus' relationship to the Matrix of Leadership?"

"Unknown," Ratchet said as they started to turn inside the med bay but he stopped short, putting out a hand to halt Perceptor at the same time. Perceptor followed Ratchet's gaze, smiled at the sight before them. Rodimus had taken up Ratchet's customary perch on the stool beside Optimus' berth, but the young Prime was in recharge, hunched over Prime, head resting on his shoulder, fingers laced with Optimus'.

"Should I wake him?" Perceptor asked.

"No," Ratchet said. "Leave them be."


	23. Disclosure

Precipitous

Part 23-Disclosure

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet wasn't surprised to see Rodimus gone from the med bay when he arrived for his shift that morning. He was, however, surprised to see Perceptor passed out at his desk. The medic roused the scientist, shooed him from the med bay, turning his attention to the matters of the day. First, he checked the monitors hooked up to Prime-all read as they should. Second was checking up on Kup. Luckily, he knew exactly where to find him, or more to the point, who to contact to bring him to the med bay. Ratchet commed Springer, who arrived five minutes later with a struggling Kup.

"Want me to stick around?" Springer asked as he shoved Kup toward an empty berth.

"No," Ratchet said, turning his attention to the ancient Autobot giving him a look that should've made him quake in fear. Springer took the hint, walking from the med bay, sparing his recharging leader a glance as he passed.

"How's Prime?" Kup asked, trying to look past Ratchet at the recovering Autobot leader.

"Better," Ratchet said. "Now hold still and let me run a few scans. . ."

Kup sighed, settling in for the barrage of tests which took less time than expected.

"You're free to go," Ratchet said, turning to put his instruments away.

"What?" Kup said. "That's it? No threats?"

"If you like, I could make a few," Ratchet said, raising an optic ridge.

"It's just not like you. . ." Kup said.

"You never listen anyway, so what's the point?" Ratchet said.

"Kup, I have a busy day ahead of me, and so do you. I'm sure you have questions that need answered, and you've waited long enough. . ." Ratchet said.

"I know it'll be a while before I can speak with Optimus," Kup said.

Given Kup's agitation since his arrival, and confusion over the exchange he'd witnessed between Optimus and Rodimus the day before, Ratchet decided a tiny breach in medical etiquette and protocol was needed.

"When Optimus wakes, I'll let you know," Ratchet said. "I'll give you a few minutes if he's feeling up to it."

"Thanks," Kup said, standing.

"One more thing before you go," Ratchet said. "Don't push Rodi. . .Hot Rod too hard," he said.

"Has something happened?" Kup asked.

"No. . ." Ratchet said, hesitating. "He's just been under a lot of stress lately. The past few days have been no exception. The two of you do need to talk, but for once Kup, take my advice and do not push him. Please."

Kup frowned. "All right," he said. "So what am I supposed to do now?"  
\-----

The morning briefing was over. Graham helped keep it mercifully short, for which Hot Rod was thankful. Now he was on his way to the rec room to get some energon before meeting with Prowl and Jazz to go over the duty assignments. He had a container of energon in one hand and a data pad in the other, walking down the corridor when Springer caught up with him.

"Rodi, where the hell have you been?" he asked. "I've been looking all over for you. Where were you last night?"

Hot Rod kept walking, ignoring the questions.

"C'mon, don't ignore me," Springer said, falling into step beside his friend. "Did you stay last night with Red?"

Hot Rod stopped. "Hardly," he said. "What's the big deal anyway?"

"You didn't have to spend half the night listing to Kup rant about you," Springer said. "He thinks you're avoiding him, and I'm starting to think so too."

"I'm not," Hot Rod said. "I've been busy."

"That's no excuse," Springer said, grabbing Hot Rod by the arm.

"Rodi, you need to go talk to him," he said. "C'mon. . ."

Hot Rod yanked his arm from Springer's grasp.

"I'll talk to Kup when I'm ready," he said.

"He deserves an explanation," Springer said. "Or are you so taken with being in charge you don't think Kup deserves that much?"

It took every shred of control Hot Rod had in his body to not hit Springer or raise his voice.

"Don't think for a second I like the position I'm in," Hot Rod said. "A position I did not choose, something I never wanted. . ."

Springer didn't back down.

"I know," he said. "But you can't run away from it, can't change it. What's done is done."

"Don't remind me," Hot Rod said.

Springer put his hand's on his friend's shoulders.

"Rodi, I'm sorry for pushing the issue, but please. . ." he said. "I know things haven't been easy for you since we came here, but isn't it better than being back out there?"

Hot Rod nodded.

"Besides, we both have our reasons for sticking around, don't we?" Springer said. "Ironhide would kick my aft if I even mentioned leaving. It's a good thing we've got here, Rodi, even if it doesn't seem like it now. And what about Optimus? Are you just going to walk away? It's not like you to give up on something you want, or at least try until you either fly or crash and burn."

"I'm not walking away," Hot Rod said.

Springer smiled, touched his helm to Hot Rod's.

"Good," he said.  
\-----  
More than an hour of wrangling passed before Prowl was satisfied with the duty roster and Hot Rod had a full grasp of just how the second in command worked out the details of planning where and when everyone worked. Hot Rod also noticed Jazz's uncharacteristic silence during the meeting, which didn't seem to faze Prowl. Unusual, but he filed it away for later reference. Hot Rod stood to leave, but Jazz finally spoke up.

"Kup dropped by my office earlier, wanting to know what he's supposed to with himself since he has medical clearance for active duty," Jazz said. "What would you like me to tell him?"

"Give him to Ironhide," Hot Rod said. "It won't hurt the old-timer to get run through a few training exercises."

Jazz grinned at that. "I'm sure Ironhide will oblige," he said. "I might even join in for old time's sake."

"Have fun," Hot Rod said. He turned his attention to Prowl. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Not at the moment," Prowl said.  
\-----

Hot Rod sat on his favorite stretch of beach. The sound of waves crashing on the shore was a welcome distraction from duty. Another long afternoon had dragged on, broken only by a tiff in ops by Skids and Mudflap and the special ops briefing, which had featured no silence from Jazz because he was the one running the meeting, but he did keep shooting glances at Sideswipe and Prowl. Prowl hadn't been oblivious this time, and Sideswipe had been down right interested in the briefing, more than usual. Sunstreaker had actually paid attention and Ironhide-the less said the better.

Now, he was alone, thankful to have a little time to himself. He felt a little guilty, taking himself away from where he might be needed, but if he didn't escape for a while, he knew he'd go crazy. Hot Rod promised himself a few more minutes, then he'd head back, check on things, then go see if Optimus was awake.

Now, though, off in the distance, he heard an unfamiliar engine, turned around, watching as one of the silver NEST Hummers pulled off the road and onto the beach. Hot Rod frowned, thinking one of the humans had come to find him, but the Hummer transformed.

Hot Rod stood, found himself engulfed in a hug from Kup.

"It's good to see you, old-timer," Hot Rod said.

"Lad, I'm happy to see you, too," Kup said, holding the younger Autobot at arm's length, sweeping his optics over his frame.

Hot Rod gave his friend a quizzical look. "What?" he asked.

"Lad, somethin's different about you. . ." Kup said. "Nothing I can see, but I sense it. Everything all right?"

Hot Rod held back a sigh. He couldn't hide the truth from Kup.

"Kup, you better sit down," he said.

Kup raised an optic ridge in question, but did as he was told. Hot Rod sat down beside him, staring out at the ocean a few moments before he spoke. "Kup. . .there's something you need to know," Hot Rod said. "I know you probably have questions. . .like about what happened in the med bay yesterday with Optimus. . ."

"It's crossed my mind more than once, lad" Kup said. "Prime called you Rodimus and if I heard right, he also said you were in charge."

"I am in charge," Hot Rod said.

"Has Prime blown his processor?" Kup asked.

"I wish," Hot Rod said, showing a brief glimmer of his old humor. As quickly as it appeared, it disappeared. "Kup, I'm no longer known as Hot Rod. They call me Rodimus Prime now."

"Rodimus Prime?" Kup asked. "What?"

"I'm a Prime," Hot Rod said. "Like Optimus."


	24. React

Precipitous

Part 24-React

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Kup listened as it all came tumbling out-everything from what had happened the fateful day the Wreckers arrived on Earth to the moment Hot Rod came to his and Wheeljack's rescue days before. Rodimus, he corrected himself, but he couldn't come to think of Hot Rod as anything but Hot Rod.

He was still sitting beside Hot Rod, the lad silent now, letting him process everything he'd heard. Kup still couldn't believe it, but he knew it was true. Every word. He could see the lad was struggling with his new lot in life, and who wouldn't? Despite Hot Rod's feelings about being a Prime, Kup felt a swell of pride and affection for the younger mech. He'd gone from being a near-washout to Prime.

Kup placed a weathered hand on Hot Rod's shoulder.

"Lad, I'm proud of you," he said. "Prime. Who would've thought?"

"Primus has a sick sense of humor," Hot Rod offered.

Kup snorted. "You haven't lost yours, I see," he said. "How's Optimus felt about all this-not being the only Prime?"

"Lectured me repeatedly about the sacred duty of a Prime, among other things," Hot Rod said.

"He hasn't made it easy, has he?" Kup asked.

"How could he?" Hot Rod said. "There isn't a manual for how to deal with this situation."

"No, but it sounds like Prime needs a lecture or two himself," Kup said. "I'm not afraid to do it, either."

Hot Rod grinned. "Can I be there when you do?"

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Kup said. "I think. . ."

He suddenly noticed a blank look in Hot Rod's optics.

"What is it?" Kup asked.

"Ratchet," Hot Rod said. "Optimus is awake. He's asking for us both."  
\-----

Optimus was sitting up, trying to ignore Ratchet, who was examining his right shoulder. He could feel Ratchet's hands working on the wrecked shoulder joint, but he felt no pain. However, having his pain receptors turned off didn't keep him from jumping or squirming around as the medic worked.

"Hold still or I'm going to knock you out," Ratchet said.

"I can still feel what you're doing," Optimus said.

"Just because you feel no pain doesn't mean you still can't receive sensory feedback," Ratchet said. "Sensation is good. It means I might be able to reattach your arm sooner than I thought, except your armor is still going to have to grow back on its own. I can try a few things to speed up the process, but none of them are pleasant. . ."

The sound of footsteps turned Optimus' attention from the medic to see who was coming to the med bay.

Ratchet noticed Optimus' optics light up when the Autobot leader saw Rodimus and Kup, but he wasn't willing to place any bets on who piqued Prime's interest. Rodimus maybe. If it was, hopefully a good sign, the medic reflected. Trust between the two Primes would go a long way in helping their relationship and his own sanity.

"I'll be in my office if you need me," Ratchet said, nodding at Kup and Rodimus. He smiled sweetly at Optimus when he received a glare from his leader.

"The only thing I need is out of here," Optimus muttered once he was sure Ratchet was out of hearing.

"I heard that," Ratchet shouted from his office.

Optimus ignored the medic. "Kup, you wanted to speak with me?"

The ancient Autobot glanced from Optimus to Hot Rod and back. He did want to talk with Optimus, but some of what he needed to say didn't need to be said in front of Hot Rod, especially after everything he'd heard earlier that evening.

"Yeah-just wanted to know what I'm supposed to do now I've been cleared for active duty," Kup said.

"If I were able, I would go over everything you need to know about our relationship with NEST. Since I am not, I will defer to Rodimus for the time being regarding your duties," Optimus said. "He is in charge. Not I."

Hot Rod suddenly found himself under the scrutiny of two sets of optics.

"Well, lad?" Kup asked, torn between amusement and amazement at the look on Hot Rod's face. The young mech's optics blazed with fury for a few seconds, and Kup could see it could take all of Hot Rod's self control to keep from lashing out at Optimus. Much to his credit, he didn't.

"I'll talk with Prowl in the morning," Hot Rod said. "See if he has any suggestions. If not, you can do what you did today-train with Ironhide and Jazz."

"Sounds good," Kup said. "C'mon lad, let's not keep Optimus from his rest."

He placed a hand on Hot Rod's shoulder, squeezed hard enough to let him know he meant business, steering him from the med bay. Once outside, he let go.

"Mind telling me what that was all about?" Kup asked.

"What?" Hot Rod said.

"All that anger over a simple decision," Kup said. "And that's not the first time, is it? How long has this been going on?"

Hot Rod crossed his arms, indignant.

"Lad, I'm not gonna go running back to Prime and tell him everything you say," Kup said. "This is just between us."

"I think I've done enough talking for one night," Hot Rod said. "I still have work to do. . ."

"Don't think a fancy new name and rank are going to have any effect on me," Kup said. "You may be a Prime and I respect that, but don't go hiding behind it when it's convenient. I know you and I can tell when something's bothering you."

Hot Rod frowned, but gave in. Kup was right.

"He's what's bothering me," Hot Rod said. "Always taking jabs at me like that-it's almost like he doesn't think I can do his job. But that's just it-I can't do his job. I'm not Optimus, and I never will be. I might be a Prime, but I'll never be what everyone expects me to be."

Kup raised an optic ridge. This was interesting. He'd never seen Hot Rod's self-confidence waning so much. Could be good or bad, depending on how things turned out in the end. His new situation could either help him grow and mature or break him.

"Lad, I don't think anyone expects you to be like Optimus. . ."

The look on Hot Rod's face suggested otherwise, but Kup ignored it.

"Even Optimus had problems in the beginning," Kup said. "He still does. No one is perfect, and believe me, when he became Prime, he was far from it. Still is, but he learned from experience. You will too."

"Then maybe someone needs to remind him of that," Hot Rod said.

Kup said nothing, only placed a hand on his friend shoulder.

Believe me, I will, he thought.  
\-----

2330\. Well past time to be off duty, but Prowl was working late to catch up, trying to make up for lost time from both med bay stays. He was also taking advantage of Optimus' current tenure in Ratchet's domain. With Prime laid up, it meant one less Autobot showing up in his office telling him he was working too hard. Somebody had to, Prowl reflected. Not that anyone else on base shirked duty, but he was dedicated to his job and his place as second in command of the Autobot forces. He was also dedicated to his Prime and the holder of that rank, even if it was Rodimus. Hard work on his part at the moment meant one less thing Rodimus would have to deal with, but in the back of Prowl's mind, he remembered the countless warnings received from Optimus and Jazz. Warnings that reminded him that if he worked himself too hard, they would have to work harder to pick up his slack if he blew his processor.

Prowl ignored his conscience as he plugged along, signing the necessary requisitions that would give Perceptor his lab, allowing himself a smile as he did so. He felt something bordering on quiet glee as he thought about Ratchet's future reaction. Perceptor plus lab and Wheeljack's eventual inclusion meant explosions and giving Ratchet something to do besides fix combat injuries. Things that hopefully involved research as well as spending time with his friends instead of holed up inside the med bay.

The tactician didn't look up as he heard familiar footsteps, felt and heard the thunk of Sideswipe's aft as he sat down on the corner of his desk.

"Whatcha smiling at, Prowlie?" Sideswipe asked.

"Nothing," Prowl said.

"Uh huh," Sideswipe said, snatching the data pad out of his hands. Optics widened as he read the screen, handed it back. "Does Optimus know about this?"

"He was supposed to sign this himself, but because he's in the med bay, he can't," Prowl said.

"Does Rodimus know?"

"He does," Prowl said. "And why do you care?"

"Did it occur to anyone that the presence of a full-fledged lab on base might be a bad idea?" Sideswipe said. "Like don't want to blow up the humans or anything. Think of the opportunities for bad behavior-like bots swiping chemicals, Wheeljack's inventions. . ."

"Sideswipe, since when did you become the voice of logic?" Prowl asked.

"Since you aren't," Sideswipe said. "C'mon, Prowlie, you need a break. You've only just gotten out of the med bay, and. . ."

Suddenly, Sideswipe stopped talking and Prowl felt a new sensation on one of his door wings. A sensation that wasn't unpleasant, but completely unexpected and unacceptable.

"Remove your hand from my door wing or I will be forced to take action I will not regret," Prowl said, optics latched to the data pad in his hands.

"Ratch'll thank me for giving you something to do besides work," Sideswipe said, continuing to run his hand down the underside of Prowl's left door.

"Sideswipe. . ."

"Prowlie, you need a break. Come get some energon with me," Sideswipe said. "When was the last time you refueled or recharged?"  
\-----  
Kup started out at the ocean, watching waves lap against the shore, thinking. Hot Rod a Prime. He was proud of the lad, more than he could say, yet angered by it at the same time. It was unfair of others to compare him to Optimus, to have unreasonable expectations. Maybe that was it though, what was expected of Hot Rod now? And just how was Optimus treating Hot Rod? He'd get to the bottom of it and everything else nobody was talking about.

Like the Matrix. Hot Rod had it now, did he? Kup knew damn well from the stories just what the Matrix was, and what it was for. What of the Allspark? The humans and their relationship to the Autobots on Earth? Did they expect them to just be a fighting force and not allow them to go on with their lives? The Decepticons-where was Megatron? All questions that needed answers. Kup knew he'd get them, he just needed to be patient.


	25. Accost

Precipitous

Chapter 25-Accost

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Springer stared at the wall, unable to fall into recharge. He had a lot on his mind-everything from the Xantium's current status to how well Kup was going to take hearing he was involved with Ironhide. How Hot Rod was holding up was also floating around in his processor. Those thoughts dissipated momentarily as he felt Ironhide stir.

"How's Rodi?" Ironhide asked.

No inquiry as to what he was thinking about, direct and to the point as always. Am I so easy to read, Springer thought.

Ironhide felt Springer shrug. Hard to do considering he had his arms wrapped around his bunkmate.

"Haven't talked to him since this morning," Springer answered.

"So you don't know if he's talked to Kup," Ironhide asked.

"No," Springer said.

"And you haven't either," Ironhide said. "It's not like you to procrastinate."

Springer snorted.

"I know I'm going to have to tell him sooner or later," he said. "And what about you-afraid he won't approve?"

"Kup will have to deal with it," Ironhide said, nibbling at Springer's neck. "Speaking of relationships, has Rodi said anything about Optimus?"

"'Hide, don't pry," Springer said.

"I'm not," Ironhide said. "I just think Optimus needs help with his stubbornness toward a relationship with Rodi. They're both Primes. It makes sense, only, of course, Optimus doesn't see it. Or he does and he won't admit it."

"And you think you can 'help' Optimus?" Springer asked.

"Maybe," Ironhide said. "But perhaps I've taken the wrong approach toward trying to get Optimus to see the light. . ."

"'Hide," Springer cautioned.

"How do you think Rodi would feel about helping Optimus bring about the next generation of Primes?" Ironhide said.

The elbow in his chest ended the discussion.  
\-----

The morning briefing was almost over. Five more minutes and it was on to the weekly officers' meeting. Hot Rod was counting down the minutes, ready to bolt. Graham was standing up on the catwalk, going over their supply needs. The young Autobot was half-listening when Morshower suddenly switched gears.

". . .I'm going on vacation, so starting tomorrow you'll be dealing with National Security Advisor Theodore Galloway for the next week," Morshower said.

"Sir?" Hot Rod said. "Could you repeat that?"

"I'm going on vacation," Morshower said. "I'm sorry to say you'll be dealing with Galloway until I get back. Now, if that'll be all. . ."

"Yes sir," Graham said, ending the briefing. His eyes met Hot Rod's optics. Neither said anything, but the look said it all. The next week was not going to be pleasant.

Graham climbed down, walked with Hot Rod out of the communications hangar toward the Autobot living quarters.

"At least he's not coming here," he said.

"Doesn't matter," Hot Rod said.

"He has been easier to deal with since Egypt," Graham said.

"He's still a pain in the aft," Hot Rod said.

"Maybe Prowl will take your place for the briefing?" Graham offered.

"Not likely," Hot Rod said. "He can't stand him either. Besides, I wouldn't ask him to. It's not fair. I'm Prime."  
\-----

The officers' meeting went well until it came time for Ratchet's report. Especially the part about the operational status of various mechs recently injured in combat. Kup hadn't paid much attention until Arcee's name came up. Not much was said-only that her current condition was nominal, considering circumstances and though she was removed from combat duty, she was cleared for helping with training and monitor duty as long as she didn't push herself too hard.

Hot Rod ignored the ancient mech until the meeting was over, then he found himself dragged out into the corridor.

"Anything else going on around here I should know about?" Kup said as Hot Rod tried to head to the rec room for energon.

"Nope," Hot Rod said.

Kup stopped him.

"There's only a couple of reasons why a femme like Arcee'd be pulled off combat duty," Kup said. "Either she's been insubordinate, but since she's not in the brig, that leaves one other option."

Kup gave Hot Rod a sidelong glance. He didn't say anything, just kept walking. Kup stopped, put a hand on his shoulder.

"Lad, is there something you're not telling me?" he asked.

Hot Rod gave him a strange look.

"About what?"

"Arcee," Kup said. "She's carrying, isn't she?"

Hot Rod sighed.

"Yes," he said.

Kup was staring at him, arms crossed, one optic ridge raised questioningly.

"What?" Hot Rod said, glaring back. Then the lights went on. "No. It was not me."

He started on his way again, waiting for Kup to catch up.

"Why does everyone think it was me?" he muttered.

"Springer then?" Kup said.

"Again, no," Hot Rod said

"Then who?" Kup said.

"Ask Arcee," Hot Rod said. "You haven't talked to her yet."  
\-----

Optimus Prime sat propped up on his berth in the med bay, reading. Ratchet had finally supplied reading material having nothing to do with work.

The data pad in his hand was barely keeping his interest, however. His optics kept straying to Ratchet's office, where the medic was having a private conversation with Sideswipe. The door was closed and the windows were soundproof, ensuring he wouldn't be able to hear what was being said, except Ratchet's expression and body language spoke volumes. Tense, and if Optimus was reading him right, a little ill, too.

As if the medic could sense he was being watched, his optics met Optimus' for a second, forcing the Autobot leader's attention back to his data pad. A few moments later, the door to Ratchet's office opened.

"Thanks, Ratch," Sideswipe said. He walked out of the office, flashed Optimus a grin on his way out.

"I have no idea who he thinks he's going to find to work on his 'project' and if I find out who's willing to 'help' him. . ." Ratchet muttered.

Optimus noticed the medic's optics looked a little wild.

"What're you looking at?" Ratchet snapped. "You're too nosy for your own damn good, you know that? Ever heard of medic-patient confidentiality?"

He went quiet for a few seconds, pondering the conversation he'd just had, suddenly remembering there was a question he'd been meaning to put to his beloved leader.

"Arcee's current condition-did you suggest she find someone to procreate with or was that an order?" Ratchet said.

Optimus set down his data pad.

"I did not order Arcee to do anything of the sort," he said. "I didn't suggest it. Actually, she came to me with the idea. All I gave was my blessing."

That seemed to placate the medic. A little.

"So you haven't ordered anyone to get on with rebuilding our race?" Ratchet said.

"No I have not," Optimus said.

"And I don't have to worry about having to deal with more than one carrying Autobot right now?" Ratchet said. "Although the thought of *someone* settling down, starting a family of his own would do a lot of good. . .that kind of stability would go a long way in helping establish the idea that we are here to stay on this planet and are going to be more than just a fighting force to protect the humans."

The medic regarded his Prime thoughtfully, hoping he'd take the hint. Kup had said something interesting earlier that day about Primes-if the ancient mech remembered right, only two Primes or a Prime and a femme of Prime lineage could produce another Prime. Not that Ratchet wanted to find himself optic-deep in sparklings. It was something he wanted Optimus to consider for the future.

"Gen. Morshower knows we are here to stay," Optimus said. "And he has brought up the issue of our future more than once."

"Good," Ratchet said. "That's all I needed to hear."  
\-----

Graham walked across the tarmac, eyes glued to his clipboard, going over the list of supplies the Autobots needed to set up their science lab. Prowl had kindly forwarded him the e-mail that morning, much to his annoyance. Coming up with the normal supplies needed by both humans and Autobots was one thing, supplying a lab was another. And then there was Galloway to deal with in the morning. He knew his presence wasn't required during the morning teleconference with the Pentagon, but as acting NEST co-commander he wasn't going to leave Rodimus hanging. He'd be there, suffering along with the Autobot out of duty and friendship.

So engrossed in thought was the human he almost didn't notice the Autobot who was standing in his way. The blocked out sun and whirring of servos as the Autobot bent down to get a better look at him brought Graham back to his senses.

"Sir," Graham said. "Kup, correct?"

"I'm Kup," he said. "And you don't have to call me 'sir.' I may be old, experienced, and an officer, but I don't go by that type of formality. You must be Graham. Hot Rod mentioned you."

"Where I come from, and by my training, I've been taught to address a respected elder and officer as 'sir'," Graham said. "Rodimus has mentioned you more than once."

"All good I hope," Kup said.

"Mostly," Graham said.

"If he said anything bad, he was lyin'," Kup said. "Taught the lad everything he knows. . .most of it, anyway."

Graham fought back a grin.

"And even if he says I didn't, I'm the one that knocked any grain of sense he has into that thick processor," Kup said. "Me and Ultra Magnus."

"Rodimus has shared stories of his training," Graham said.

"The lad must like you if he's talked about that," Kup said. "I hope he counts you among his friends."

"Sir, Rodimus is my closest friend among the Autobots, well, he and Jazz," Graham said.

"I'm glad to hear it," Kup said. "C'mon. I need someone to fill me in on everything I don't know and I might as well start with you."


	26. Chat

Precipitous

Part 26-Chat

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod considered turning around and walking back the way he'd come. The sound of grating metal and cursing made him keep going. Interest piqued, he walked inside the med bay anyway, instantly regretting it.

"Take.Your.Hand.Out.Of.My.Spark.NOW."

"It slipped," Ratchet muttered, complying, removing his hand from the edge of Optimus Prime's exposed spark. The medic placed his hands back on the parted halves of his leader's chest armor, yanking hard.

Nothing happened.

"Think really hard about closing your armor while I pull," Ratchet said. "If this doesn't work. . ."

Optimus frowned, but complied, concentrating on making his chest armor move while he tried to ignore Ratchet pulling and yanking on the parted halves of his chest. Again, nothing happened.

"That's it," Ratchet said, letting go and stepping away. "That right half is coming off. You're just going to have to be patient. Your body has to heal on its own. I can only do so much. You need rest and time to heal, especially after the trauma you've been through the past year. You're lucky to have a spark at all. And part of the reason you're having so much trouble with that shoulder and that side is because of what happened protecting Sam and in Egypt, if you need reminding. . ."

"I need no reminder of what happened," Optimus said. "I'd rather not remember."

"Then quit throwing yourself into the line of fire," Ratchet said. "Or was this last incident with Bruticus a tactical error?"

"No," Optimus said. "It was a diversion to allow the rest of my team to retreat."

"So you say," Ratchet said. "I'd think after all you've been through you'd want. . ."

:Silence, Ratchet: Optimus commed, noticing Hot Rod standing inside the med bay door.

Ratchet turned around, glanced at the young Prime, started working on Optimus' shoulder.

"My hand in your spark's probably the most action you've seen in a long time, isn't it?" Ratchet said, deciding to not let an opportunity to get his digs in slide by.

Optimus ignored the remark.

"Rodimus, what do you need?" he asked.

"Just dropped by to see how you are. . . " Hot Rod said.

"He's a pain in my aft, that's what," Ratchet said. "Come back later. I have work to do, and I bet you two would like to talk without me around."

Optimus glared at the medic, started to say something to Rodimus but he was already gone.  
\-----

Kup had many questions and Graham answered what he was allowed. He stuck to the standard new-to-Earth-Autobot briefing, which answered some of Kup's questions. Other inquiries he answered or avoided. Then there were the questions about Rodimus, Optimus, and the Matrix of Leadership.

"You humans were lucky with Megatron and the Allspark," Kup finally said. Graham gave him a panicked look.

"Don't look so surprised I know about that," Kup said. "I've hacked some of the classified files in the base computer. I wasn't head of security and intelligence for a whole planet for nothing. Who do you think trained most of the bots on this base? And the Matrix. . .at least it wasn't lost. . .it's more precious than the Allspark, but how would any of you know that?"

Graham finally regained enough of his wits to speak.

"The Matrix? It contains the knowledge from the Allspark, but. . ." he said.

"Lad, the Matrix is more important for many reasons," Kup said. "It wasn't just for powering sun harvesters. That came later, and it was foolish. Using something carrying the essence of Primus himself to destroy suns. . .that is, if you believe the old stories. Enough of that. I have one more question-how has Hot Rod handled all this?"

Graham considered the question before answering. He didn't want to betray his friend's trust, but he didn't want to avoid being honest with Kup.

"Becoming a Prime hasn't been easy for him or the others," Graham said. "But he's held up under the pressure. I think if you want to know anything more, you should talk to him."

"I will," Kup said.  
\-----

Hot Rod nodded at Perceptor as he walked into the med bay. The scientist set down his data pad, leaving the two Primes alone.

:If Opitmus gives you any difficulty, feel free to call me: Perceptor commed.

:I don't think he's in any condition to cause problems: Hot Rod said.

:You would be surprised: Perceptor replied.

"I assured Ratchet I didn't need a babysitter," Optimus said, watching Hot Rod sit down.

"I'm sure he doesn't see it that way," Hot Rod said.

"Not that I didn't enjoy Perceptor's company," Optimus said. "He was a welcome change from Ratchet. As are you."

Hot Rod raised an optic ridge.

"I'm sure you'd welcome the chaos-bringer himself if it meant a break from the monotony of this place," he said.

"Ratchet won't even let me go to my quarters to recuperate," Optimus said.

"Too many distractions," Hot Rod said. "Like worry and work."

"Are you insinuating that I do nothing but worry and work?" Optimus said.

"Being a Prime encompasses both," Hot Rod said. "It doesn't leave much time for yourself."

"No, it does not," Optimus said.

"How are you feeling?" Hot Rod asked, trying to change the subject.

"Better," Optimus said. "Still weak, but better. And if Ratchet isn't more careful rooting around where he doesn't belong. . . "

Hot Rod's optics strayed to the exposed half of the other Prime's spark.

"Ratchet was just doing his job," he said.

Optimus hmphed.

"He hasn't been through what I have, either," he said.

"I know you've seen a lot of combat over the past year, and having another Prime around. . ." Hot Rod said.

"That's not what I mean," Optimus said. "Ratchet fears I've come to depend in the Matrix too much, that it was sustaining my spark, but that is not the case. I do, however, share a connection with it. The Matrix saved my life."

"What do you mean?" Hot Rod said. "I know you found it in Egypt. . ."

Optimus hesitated before answering, reluctant to bring up the subject, but the issue was one that needed to be broached.

"I may have left out pertinent details regarding my part in the events leading up to and taking place in Egypt," Optimus said.

"Details? Like what?" Hot Rod asked.

"Certain details I have not shared with you, that I should have, but that can wait," Optimus said.

"If it's important, why have you been holding out?" Hot Rod said.

"I have my reasons," Optimus said.

"That isn't an answer," Hot Rod said. "I came down here to try and talk to you, see how you are and instead, I get the runaround. If you want me to leave, why don't you just say so?"

Optimus resisted the urge to frown, but instead, he kept his gaze calm and steady.

"If I wanted to be left alone, I'd call Perceptor," he said. "Actually, I don't mind having you here. How are things going? Anything interesting happen while I've been confined?"

Hot Rod crossed his arms, giving the other Prime an annoyed look.

"No asking about work," he said.

"I'm not," Optimus said.

"Not telling," Hot Rod said. "The base is still standing, the twins-both sets, haven't blown anything up, Kup's bored, and Springer and Ironhide haven't said a word to him yet about their relationship."

Optimus graced Hot Rod with a rare smile.

"How do you think he'll take it when they do?" he asked.

"I have no idea," Hot Rod said.

"Does he know about Arcee yet?" Optimus said.

"Yes, but not that it's twins and Sunstreaker is the sire," Hot Rod said. "Kup can find that out on his own."

"Kup and I have much to discuss once I'm out of here," Optimus said.

"You do," Hot Rod said. "And I should probably go. It's late, and you need to rest."

He stood, but Optimus reached out with his good arm, catching Hot Rod by the wrist.

"Stay a while," he said. "We don't have to talk. Just stay with me."


	27. Objection

Precipitous

Part 27-Objection

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Prowl was jarred from recharge by an elbow to his midsection.

"Oops, sorry," his berth mate muttered.

"Sideswipe. . ."

"I know. I shouldn't be awake," Sideswipe said.

The tactician sighed, wondering for the millionth time why he'd said yes to Sideswipe's request when he'd shown up at his door earlier that night. A simple request it had been, too-Sideswipe had asked if he could stay the night with him because Sunstreaker had thrown him out of their quarters. It wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last, although it had been a very long time since Prowl had shared a berth with anyone, even Sideswipe and his need for a place to bunk for the night. It wasn't too bad, either, barring Sideswipe's restlessness.

The twins had always shared a mutual need for contact with others when they were apart, be the separation emotional or physical. Prowl didn't know if it was a trait of this particular set of twins, or sibling pairs in general, but Sideswipe had explained it several times, in his own unique fashion. And blast Sunny for being so damn emotional. Then again, impending fatherhood could do that to a mech.

"What are you thinking?" Sideswipe suddenly asked.

"Nothing" Prowl said.

"You're always thinking," Sideswipe said. "I know the only time you aren't is maybe when you're in recharge and definitely not when you're unconscious from a processor glitch."

"Am I so predictable?" Prowl said.

"I wouldn't call it predictable," Sideswipe said. "More like reliable."

Prowl considered that a moment. Sideswipe usually struck him speechless with the audacity of his pranks or smart remarks, or, on rarer occasions, like now, with his honesty.

"Reliable? Really?" the tactician asked.

"Yeah," Sideswipe said. "You're not predictable. Ratchet is. Barring that processor glitch of yours, you're stable, and that's a good thing-so you're reliable. Even though you can be a hard-ass as the humans say, we all know we can count on you. How's that for an explanation?"

"Rambling, but effective," Prowl said. "Sideswipe, not that I don't enjoy talking to you, but it's the middle of the night, and I have a meeting I do not want to attend in the morning, but I will be at the morning briefing to lend Rodimus moral support. No one should have to face someone like Galloway alone."

Sideswipe snorted.

"He won't be alone," he said. "He'll have Graham and the rest of the humans with him."

"It's not the same," Prowl said.

"Is Jazz going to be there?" Sideswipe asked.

"Yes, because I might need backup," Prowl said. "Why?"

"No reason," Sideswipe said. "Hey-have you given anymore thought to that thing I asked you about?"

"Which thing?" Prowl asked.

"The thing about helping ensure the survival of our race," Sideswipe said.

Oh, that thing, Prowl thought. No, he hadn't.

"I haven't had the time," he said. "I'm flattered you asked, though, and I will give the question serious consideration, if you are indeed honest with your intentions. If not. . ."

"I'm serious, Prowlie," Sideswipe said. "Otherwise I wouldn't have asked."

"I will think about it then," Prowl said. "Try and get some rest."  
\-----

National Security Advisor Theodore Galloway stood in the Pentagon's NEST command center, waiting for his teleconference with Diego Garcia to begin. He'd been offered a seat-the chair usually occupied by Gen. Morshower, but he'd declined. Galloway didn't want to give the appearance of trying to take over NEST. Having already taken over once and getting his ass and his pride handed to him, he decided a more respectful, slightly tactful approach to a meeting with the Autobots was in order. That didn't mean he wouldn't play hardball if he had to.

Getting dumped in the desert all those months ago was a humbling experience. So was seeing the lengths the Autobots and humans of NEST were willing to go to in saving one of their own, and learning just what the title of Prime meant to their alien allies. Optimus Prime was one thing, the upstart pain in the ass egotistical kid that was the other Prime rubbed him the wrong way. Rodimus, that was the name. He was a cowboy like Lennox, someone who didn't play by the rules. Hopefully the Autobots had him occupied elsewhere so he wouldn't have to deal with him. However, as the screens in the command center flared to life, revealing the image of Capt. Graham on the communications platform in Diego Garcia and the red and black figure that was not Optimus Prime towering behind him, Galloway knew somebody hadn't told him everything he needed to know.

"Capt. Graham, it's good to see you," Galloway said, biting back his annoyance.

"Sir," Graham said. "You remember Rodimus Prime, correct? You'll be dealing with him instead of Optimus for the foreseeable future."

Galloway's temple started to throb.

"And why is that?" he asked.

"Optimus was wounded in battle several days ago and is confined to the med bay," Graham said.

"No one told me," Galloway said. "Doesn't matter now. What's your operational status? I've been given a report on your current personnel status, but obviously it isn't up to date. Given the fact both of your commanding officers are unavailable, can you deploy if necessary?"

"I am currently co-commander of NEST with Capt. Graham," Hot Rod said. "And to answer your question, we could deploy as usual if needed. The command structure in place has not been compromised with Optimus out of commission and some of the human personnel on leave."

"That's good to know," Galloway said. "But considering your track record as a field commander, I'd feel better knowing Prowl was in command."

"Sir, Optimus was quite clear. . ." Graham started, but he stopped, seeing the look in his friend's optics.

"Mr. Galloway, Optimus left me in charge, not Prowl. I am a Prime. Prowl is not," Hot Rod said.

"I know that," Galloway said. "But in this case, experience should win out over a title. I know the importance of your position, however, you are not as experienced a leader as Optimus or Prowl. If something unfortunate were to befall Optimus, something he couldn't be brought back from, unlike last time, you would be in charge, correct? No offense, but I think you Autobots need to revise your command structure. If there's nothing else. . ."

\-----  
Back at Diego Garcia, Autobot optics blazed in anger as the connection with Washington, D.C. was cut.

Graham didn't say anything as Rodimus stormed from the hangar. He climbed down from the platform, hoping to catch up but the Autobot was already gone. Once he was outside, he saw Prowl grab him by the shoulder, heard shouting, watched as the young Prime walked away from the tactician.

Prowl saw him coming, and waited for the human to catch up.

"That went well," Prowl said.

"At least he waited until after the meeting to walk away," Graham said.

"True, but Galloway didn't need to treat him that way, either," Prowl said. "Every time Rodimus starts to show a little confidence in himself and his abilities, someone has to make him doubt. Comparing him to Optimus isn't fair. And while I do have more experience as a leader, Rodimus was correct in pointing out I am not a Prime. I could lead if I had to, but it would not be the same."

"Do you think I should try to talk to him?" Graham asked.

"No, give him some time to cool off. Jazz or I will check on him later," Prowl said.  
\-----

The door to Optimus' office was closed, but Jazz could hear noise coming from inside. A dull, ringing sound. Methodical. Like something being pounded. Curious, he entered his command override door, walked inside the office once the door slid open. The Autobot third in command was greeted by the sight of Rodimus Prime pounding a fist into the wall.

"Optimus ain't gonna like seeing you've damaged his office," Jazz said. "He'll like it even less when he finds out you've probably hurt yourself in the process."

Hot Rod snapped around.

"I don't think he'll care," he said.

"Wanna bet?" Jazz said. "C'mere. Let me see that hand."

Hot Rod glared.

"I take it the conference with Galloway didn't go well," Jazz said.

"Hardly," Hot Rod said.

"Want to talk about it?" Jazz asked.

"No," Hot Rod said.

"Rodi, I can tell by the way you're acting Galloway probably said something he shouldn't have," Jazz said. "If you don't want to talk, at least go get that hand looked at. I can handle things in ops."

"OK," Hot Rod said, heading for the med bay.  
\-----

It felt good to be out of the med bay, even if it was only for an hour, Optimus Prime thought. He had a babysitter again, Kup this time. They were talking over energon, enjoying each other's company, although Optimus couldn't shake the feeling he was experiencing the calm before the storm. Kup kept glancing his way, looking like he was working himself up to something. And he was right.

"Lad, I know you're holding out on me," Kup said. "I shouldn't push, but it looks like a lot's changed, and I'd like to know what. And how did you come by the Matrix?"

Optimus stared into the depths of his energon container.

"Lad. . ."

"Kup, I'd rather not talk about it right now," Optimus said.

"All right," Kup said. "Then how about Hot Rod. I understand he's had it rough the past few months. What have you done about that?"

"Rodimus has had a difficult time adjusting to being a Prime. It has not been an easy situation for either of us," Optimus said. "I admit at times I haven't handled the matter a well as I could. . .I admit that, but. . ."

"You're both too proud and stubborn for your own good," Kup said. "I know Hot Rod can be hard to handle, but he hasn't broken under the strain, has he?"

"No," Optimus said. "Much to his credit, he hasn't."

"Yet you haven't made it easy for the lad. Not that I'd expect you to, but Hot Rod requires a special touch. Always has. That's why I finished his training, not Ironhide."

"In other words, you trained him because no one else would," Optimus said.

"Something like that," Kup said. "Could, would, doesn't matter now. Let's just say I saw the potential that was there. Potential that has now been realized, only I don't think the lad knows how to handle it yet."

"I remember Ultra Magnus mentioning him on more than one occasion," Optimus said.

"Magnus always tried to keep him out of your sights," Kup said. "But I am surprised your paths never crossed before now."

"Why did Magnus do that?" Optimus asked.

"He figured you had enough on your shoulders without adding a pain in the aft recruit's disciplinary problems to the pile," Kup said. "Or maybe you weren't supposed to notice before now. I think I've said enough, but we're not done. Not by a long shot. It's time for you to go back to the med bay."


	28. Adjust

Precipitous

Part 28-Adjust

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet ran sensitive fingers over the knuckles of Hot Rod's right hand, sensors corroborating what his optics already told him. The dermal plating over the first three knuckles was ripped through and the underlying structure of the hand damaged.

"I hope there wasn't a sentient being on the receiving end of your anger," Ratchet said.

"Want to volunteer?" Hot Rod said, more than annoyed.

"Rodimus."

Medic and young Prime's optics snapped around at that commanding voice. Ratchet remained calm while Hot Rod's agitation boiled to the surface once more. Seeing Optimus, even though he was leaning on Kup for support, his authority wasn't lessened.

"Leave us," Optimus said, bracing himself against the wall.

Kup glanced at Ratchet, meeting his optics, turned his attention back to Optimus, nodding.

Once they were gone, Optimus leveled the full force of his gaze on his younger counterpart. Hot Rod didn't flinch, didn't back down.

"As Ratchet indicated, I too, hope your anger was not directed at a fellow Autobot," Optimus said.

Hot Rod bristled slightly, but let himself relax, if only a little.

"The only damage was to myself," he said, leaving out the other half of the wreckage was Optimus' office.

"What has upset you?" Optimus asked.

"It's nothing," Hot Rod said. "Leave it at that."

He stood, walking past Optimus without looking back.

:Rodimus, come back. Don't make me call Ratchet. Or Prowl. Better yet, Kup. I'm sure you'd love to explain to *him* why you're having a temper tantrum when you're supposed to be in charge:

As Optimus sat down on a berth, he realized he hadn't taken the most tactful approach to getting Rodimus to come back. Then again, sometimes, like now, tact wouldn't work on the younger Prime. When Rodimus was in a temper, the direct approach was appropriate. He was proven right when the other Autobot walked back into the med bay.

"You wouldn't tell Kup, would you?" Hot Rod asked.

Optimus cocked an optic ridge. "If I felt the situation warranted it," he said.

"Right now you're not authorized to give command decisions of any kind," Hot Rod said.

"No, that's your job," Optimus countered.

Hot Rod frowned.

"I don't want to argue," Optimus said. "I only wish to know what is bothering you."

"I don't think I'm supposed to do anything that'll stress you or make you worry," Hot Rod said.

"Has Ratchet said anything like that to you?" Optimus asked.

"No, but I don't think you need to know every time something bugs me," Hot Rod said.

"Clearly whatever is wrong is more than 'bugging' you," Optimus said. "I'm not blind. I can see the damage to your hand."

Hot Rod vented air, sighing. There was no getting around the matter now. He sat down on the berth across from Optimus', staring at the floor.

"The morning teleconference didn't go well," Hot Rod said.

"Why?" Optimus asked.

Hot Rod met Optimus' optics. "Galloway."

That explained a lot, Optimus thought.

"Galloway does not think before he speaks," he said.

"Obviously," Hot Rod said. "Why does Gen. Morshower put up with him? Can't they find someone else. . ."

"Gen. Morshower puts up with him because Galloway is the American president's national security advisor-a man whose opinion carries much weight."

"I know," Hot Rod said. "But can't they get someone who's, I don't know, more agreeable?"

"Galloway may lack tact, but he is honest. He speaks his mind. His directness is a welcome contrast to many of the humans we have to deal with, and he has become much easier to deal with since Egypt."

"Whatever," Hot Rod muttered. Leave it to Optimus to find something good in even the most annoying of the humans.

Optimus let the comment slide. "Be direct, don't show any weakness and try to stay in control of the conversation. That's the best way to deal with Galloway. What did he say that upset you?"

"I really don't want to. . ."

The look Optimus gave him made Hot Rod reconsider not telling. He felt like a sparkling, talking about his feelings, but the other Prime was giving him no choice.

"He questioned my leadership skills, and said that while he recognizes the importance of my position as a Prime, the Autobots would be better served by bowing to experience, not tradition," Hot Rod said. "Should something happen to you, again, whatever that means."

The look that fluttered across Optimus' features came and went so quickly Hot Rod wasn't sure he'd even seen it-fear, but the Autobot leader acted as if nothing had happened.

"Maybe you should tell Galloway I was once where you are now," Optimus said. "He may know the title of Prime is important to our people, but I don't think he knows its significance. You could try and enlighten him."

Hot Rod snorted.

"It was merely a suggestion," Optimus said.

"Yeah, I know," Hot Rod said, standing. "I should go. . ."

"You need that hand looked at," Optimus said. "Stay. Isn't someone handling ops?"

"Jazz," Hot Rod said.

"Then stay."  
\-----

The rec room was mostly empty as Kup and Ratchet sat down. The medic was having second thoughts about leaving the two Primes alone together. Surely they wouldn't start another argument, would they?

"What was that all about?" Kup asked.

"What?" Ratchet said.

"Hot Rod and Optimus," Kup said.

Oh, that, Ratchet thought. Where to start?

"They've been at each other's throats for months now," Ratchet said. "It's not the first time, and I'm certain it won't be the last. Although Ironhide has proposed and interesting theory regarding why. . .he believes it's more than just ire between the two."

"Eh?" Kup asked.

"Forget I said anything," Ratchet said.

"No, explain yourself," Kup said. "What are you talking about?"

Ratchet rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Ratchet, spill," Kup said.

"All right," Ratchet said. "But do not repeat a word of this to anyone. I myself am unsure of what is between them, but. . ."

Kup frowned, mulling the medic's words. A few moments passed, and Ratchet knew he'd figured it out from the look on the ancient mech's face.

"You can't be serious," Kup said. "Optimus and Hot Rod?"

"I'm as serious as can be," Ratchet said. "Ironhide thinks they're attracted to one another, although most of the time it seems they can barely stand to be in the same room together. He may be right. I've seen them together, when they're not arguing, or trying to beat the slag out of each other. . ."

"Well, if that's the case, has anyone tried giving them a shove in the right direction?" Kup asked.

"Not as far as I know," Ratchet said.

"Maybe it's time someone did," Kup said.  
\-----

Sideswipe was enjoying his mid-day break. He'd talked to Jazz, spent a little time with Prowl and was now avoiding Sunstreaker. The silver twin didn't want a lecture from his brother. If he wanted a lecture, he could go to the med bay and get one just by showing up. No, he was just glad Jazz was all right with his interest in Prowl, and they'd had a chance to straighten things out. Sideswipe wanted to try and pursue a relationship with Prowl, was serious about it. Jazz was OK with it, had given his blessing in a roundabout way, and now Sideswipe needed to drag Prowl back so they could all three talk things out. But that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Coming his way down the corridor was Sunny.

"Hey Sunny," Sideswipe said, trying to pass by so he wouldn't be late for weapons practice.

"Where did you spend last night?" Sunstreaker asked.

"With Prowl," Sideswipe said. "You threw me out, remember? Where was I supposed to recharge, the beach? Last time I did that, Ratchet wouldn't let me hear the end of it. Sand in parts not meant to. . ."

Sunstreaker gave his brother a look that would've cowed anyone but his twin.

"Nothing happened, aft-head," Sideswipe said. "You'd know if it had. By the way, if and when it does, it's payback for all those nights you kept me up fragging the slag out of Arcee. . ."

"'Sides, shut up," Sunstreaker said.

"That's the best you can come up with?" Sideswipe asked, face splitting in a grin. "Domestic life really suits you, Sunny. You gonna carry the next batch of sparklings you two. . ."

He turned and ran as his twin lunged at him. Looked like he was going to be late for duty after all.  
\-----

Perceptor worked quickly, repairing Rodimus' hand. He was glad to have something to occupy his time, something that kept his mind off worrying about Wheeljack. He knew the engineer would be fine, but until he was fully repaired and blowing up the lab, he wouldn't be satisfied. However, at the moment, watching Optimus Prime watch him repair Rodimus' hand was proving to be an enlightening and amusing pursuit. Each time the Autobot leader caught the scientist looking at him, he'd switch his gaze to the floor, or something else in the med bay, avoiding even looking in Ratchet's office, where he was talking with Prowl.

And from the way the two Primes tried to ignore each other, Perceptor was sure now the rumors were true. He stifled a smile as he finished patching the rips in the back of Rodimus' injured hand.

"Finished," Perceptor said. "The seals will help stimulate the growth of new dermal plating. It might itch, and if it does, try to leave it alone. If not, come see myself or Ratchet. You're free to go."

Rodimus nodded at Perceptor, threw Optimus a glance back over his shoulder. The scientist did smile this time when he saw Rodimus' lips quirk up in a small, cocky smile at Optimus. The other Prime regarded him with a steady gaze, nodding politely.

"Thanks Perceptor," Hot Rod said, walking from the med bay.

Perceptor nodded, turned his attention to putting tools away. He worked in silence, not minding at all. Optimus was once again reading a data pad, which was propped up on his knees because he still only had one arm. Perceptor started to ask when his next round of repairs was set when the door to Ratchet's office opened.

"Thank you, Ratchet," Prowl said, waving back at the medic as he walked out. The medic gave the tactician a curt nod, then turned to Prime.

"I hope you're happy," Ratchet said. "Because if he's going to do what I think he is and with who. . .I swear by Primus and all that's good and holy and just in this universe, if he does, I'm downloading the birthing protocols into *your* processor and you can deal with the situation because I refuse. . ."

Perceptor gave his friend a quizzical look while Optimus only raised an optic ridge.

"To the pit with you both," Ratchet muttered, stalking from the med bay.


	29. Disclose

Precipitous

Part 29-Disclose

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The day wasn't winding down quick enough for Hot Rod. He was optic-deep in supply requisitions Optimus Prime was neglecting. These were the big ones that didn't come along very often, but were important. Things like the scrap metal all the Autobots needed to consume periodically to help replenish base elements and metals used by their internal repair systems when they were damaged. Or, in Arcee's case, to help grow two new protoforms without cannibalizing too much of her own protoform. Also needed were copious amounts of diesel, crude oil and natural gas. The fuels were refined into different types of energon. Also at the bottom of the fuel list was ethanol derived from various plant types, which Perceptor needed for his research.

Hot Rod knew the scientist was concerned about global warming, but he assured the humans the Autobot impact was infinitesimal on a planetary scale. Though the plant derivatives weren't top priority, Perceptor said his work was promising. As long as it kept Perceptor happy and it meant the Autobots were contributing to the health and preservation of their new home, Hot Rod would gladly sign off on any materials the scientist asked for.

He was just setting aside the last requisition when he heard footsteps. Hot Rod looked up, saw Kup standing at the open office door.

"How does Optimus like knowing you're sitting in his chair?" Kup asked, coming the rest of the way in.

"He can have it back when he's healed up," Hot Rod said. "This is only temporary."

Kup hmphed, throwing himself down in the chair on the other side of the desk.

"Have a good talk with Optimus this morning?" he asked. "And how's the hand?"

"It was good to just talk," Hot Rod said. "And my hand is fine."

"What did you two talk about?" Kup said. "Hopefully he gave you a nice long lecture on keeping that temper of yours in check."

"Not this time," Hot Rod said. "Although that is one of Optimus' favorites. I could name his top five, but I don't think you want to hear them."

"If they involve duty, loyalty, bravery, sacrifice, compassion and freedom. . ." Kup said.

Hot Rod laughed, sitting back in his chair, relaxing.

"That's six," he said. "But yeah, that covers it. I've heard it all. Thank Primus he's not as bad as Ultra Magnus. He could lay it on thick and by the time he was done I could never really remember why I was in his office in the first place. Optimus though. . .he's good. I don't think he means to, but he's good with the guilt. But then again, how can you not feel guilty when you've done something wrong and he's the example we all have to live up to?"

"Lad, Optimus ain't perfect. Hardly," Kup said. "Ever seen him lose his temper, I mean really lose it? Or be sarcastic? Usually he's got a dry sense of humor, but when he's provoked, he can get pretty bad. How about over energized? I still remember the time Optimus drank too much at Magnus' party when he received his appointment as military liaison to the High Council. I don't know where he learned those songs. . .maybe Ironhide, I still don't know. Got arrested that night by my own unit. Magnus never lived down that night. To this day Optimus swears he doesn't remember anything that happened. Jazz even offered to show him holos after we got out of lock-up, but of course, Prime, crazy fragger, denied everything, even when he had proof stating otherwise."

"Do you have a point?" Hot Rod asked, biting back a smile. Same old Kup. Some things in the universe never changed, and it looked like the old-timer and his stories were one of its constants.

"My point is there's more to Optimus than meets the eye," Kup said. "Give him a chance, lad. You may be surprised by what you learn. You might even like what you see. And more importantly, despite his oh-so-well buried faults, you can trust Optimus. He's our Prime for a reason, same as you."

Hot Rod snorted. "Trust has to be earned," he said.

"So does respect," Kup retorted. "Optimus obviously trusts you enough to hand over command of his Autobots to you. That's no small thing."

"It's called desperation," Hot Rod said.

"If this is you being humble, I'm glad to see you've finally learned humility, but not at the cost of your confidence," Kup said. "Lad, have things really been that hard?"

"More than you can imagine," Hot Rod said. "It's hard to believe in yourself when everyone around you doubts you can do the job you've been handed, when all you're faced with are disappointment and failed expectations."

"Lad. . ."

"It's all right, Kup. I'm getting by. Optimus has been a little easier to deal with lately since we've reached an agreement of sorts, and now that I actually have something to do, it's not so bad," Hot Rod said.

"What kind of agreement?" Kup asked.

"That's between us," Hot Rod said, the look in his optics suggesting Kup had better stop that line of questioning.

"All right," Kup said.

"Got anymore questions, old-timer?" Hot Rod asked.

"Punk," Kup said, smiling. "Yes I do. I was hoping you'd let me go up to the Xantium to see how Wheeljack's doing. I'd also like to see how the rest of the Wreckers are getting along."

"Not a problem," Hot Rod said. "Just get Blaster to contact the ship and they'll bounce you up. Have fun."

"Sure," Kup said, walking from the office. "Fun" was the last thing on his mind.  
\-----

Ratchet watched a surprisingly calm Sunstreaker talk with Arcee as the two entered the med bay for her weekly check-up. Each previous appointment since finding out out he was a creator, the gold twin was a wound tight. Not today. This time, it was Arcee who was nervous. Not that anything was wrong. Hardly. Today was the day they would find out the gender of their twins.

The medic smiled at Arcee as she lay back on a berth for a quick exam. Scans showed her systems were operating within normal parameters and the gestation was progressing well.

"Everything looks fine," Ratchet said. "And you've had no problem keeping energon down, no purging?"

"None," Arcee said. "Sunstreaker, on the other hand. . ."

"I can give you something for the anxiety," Ratchet offered.

Sunstreaker glared.

"All right then. . ." Ratchet said, turning his attention back to the femme. "Remember last week when I said the gestation is far enough along now to determine the gender of your offspring? I can run the necessary scans-it'll only take a few minutes, and I can show you a holographic representation of the developing protoforms. I haven't done it in a while, so do you want to know, or do you want it to be a surprise?"

Arcee looked at Sunstreaker, who shrugged.

"I'd like to know," Arcee said.

Ratchet smiled, getting out the necessary equipment. Now Sunstreaker was exhibiting signs of nervousness. The mech was suddenly hovering by Arcee. The medic gave Sunstreaker's shoulder a friendly squeeze as he moved to begin the scan. Minutes later, Ratchet set down the scanner, activated a few buttons and watched as the forms of the twins appeared before Arcee and Sunstreaker.

One dark, one silver, curled together, joined to Arcee's spark.

"Mechs. . .a pair of mechs," Sunstreaker said. He sat down by Arcee, kissed the femme.

"Now we can start picking out names," Arcee said.

"And I can tell 'Sides so he'll lay off," Sunstreaker said.

"Not to mention collect his winnings from the betting pool," Ratchet said.

He noticed Arcee had her arms crossed, but there was mirth in her optics.


	30. Connections

Precipitous

Part 30-Connections

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Being on the Xantium was like coming home, but Kup had other things on his mind. Nostalgia could wait. The Xantium's computer served as a repository for all of the Autobot's activities on Earth, as did the Ark. It didn't take a rocket scientist, as the humans said, to figure out there were things Optimus wasn't talking about. The ancient Autobot was at his wit's end. No one would answer his questions-Optimus kept dogging him when asked, using Ratchet's wrath as an excuse. His leader's reluctance and Hot Rod's ire were the tip-off something big had happened. He just wanted to know what. Kup's security clearance was second only to Prime's and Prowl's. His rapport with the ship also meant the Xantium would not tell him no if he went digging around in her archives.

The medic, Red Alert, on the other hand. . .Kup shuddered at the thought of angering her. She was a fine medic, second only to Ratchet. However, like her mentor, her reputation preceded her. And he had only himself to blame for her being counted among the Wrecker's crew. Kup buried the thought. He didn't want to think about that. He'd have to face Red soon enough when he checked on Wheeljack, but for the moment, he had other matters to attend. Like mission reports.

Only Drift was on watch in the ship's command center. He nodded at Kup when he saw him.

"How would you feel about helping me with a project?" Kup asked.

Drift cocked his head.

"Is it the kind that'll get us in trouble if anyone finds out?" he asked.

"Then we'll have to make sure we don't get caught," Kup said.

Drift grinned.  
\-----

Optimus Prime tried sitting still, but the urge to squirm was driving him mad. Ratchet had his hands inside his chest cavity and shoulder, again rooting around.

"Have you given any thought to what we talked about the other day?" the medic asked.

"Which matter?" Optimus said, twitching as Ratchet pulled at one of the cables in his shoulder.

"Taking it easy," Ratchet said.

"What do you think I'm doing now?" Optimus asked, optic ridge cocked.

Ratchet stopped what he was doing, drew himself up to his full height, crossing his arms.

"Getting repaired," he said. "Supposedly resting, but you've been doing anything but. I know you're still stirring all the pots here on base even when you're not supposed to be doing anything. Like I told you before, you need rest and time to recover. Real rest. Not just cooped up here. Time to do something else besides worry all the time, or fight. Maybe do something like concentrate on improving a certain relationship that's been rocky from the start. . ."

"To which relationship are you referring?" Optimus said.

"Don't play innocent with me," Ratchet said, picking up his favorite wrench, moving toward his leader. He reached inside the shoulder joint, used it to adjust a connection. "If you don't do something, I know Kup will. And I won't stand in his way."

Ratchet allowed himself a satisfied smile as his leader's optics widened.

"Glad to see you finally picked up on the fact Kup seems to think you've ridden Rodimus harder than you should have all these months," the medic said. "I'm inclined to agree."

Optimus frowned.

"You have no idea what it's like to be in my position. . ."

"And you have no clue what it's like to deal with you day in and day out," Ratchet said. "I respect you, you're my friend, but sometimes. . ."

He gave Optimus a gentle smack on the back of his helm with the wrench he still held in his hand.

"What was that for?" Optimus asked.

"Being dense," Ratchet said. "Too damn dense to see what's been staring you in the face all these months."

"Meaning?"

"Is your processor rusted?" Ratchet said. "Want me to crack your head open and see? Might do you some good. Want me to spell it out for you? You have a chance to start what could be a meaningful relationship, and you run. Typical. . ."

"If you'll remember, my last 'meaningful relationship' didn't last long," Optimus said.

"You mean that fling you had with Elita-1?" Ratchet asked.

"That was not a fling," Optimus said, optics narrowing in a frown.

"It was," Ratchet said. "It burned out quickly."

Optimus slouched down on the berth.

"Elita didn't want a serious relationship," he said. "Thank you for reminding me."

"Still haven't gotten over that?" Ratchet said. "Speaking of, there's another matter you and I need to discuss."

He set down his wrench, pulled up his stool and sat down.

"The past year hasn't been easy," Ratchet said. "For any of us, especially you. And you haven't exactly been coping in the healthiest of ways. You know what I'm talking about. Don't deny it."

"I've done just fine," Optimus said. "The duty of leadership is mine to bear alone. I am Prime."

"Don't hide behind that," Ratchet said. "Deny it all you like, but that's just it-you haven't dealt with it," Ratchet said. "You died."

"Dealing with that particular issue is my business," Optimus said.

"And tell me-just how have you dealt with it?" Ratchet asked. "Because you sure haven't talked to me about it. Instead, you've kept everyone at arm's length, shut yourself off and pushed yourself to the brink. If I didn't know better, I'd say you have a death wish. But I don't think that's it. Then, again, that noble, self-sacrificing attitude of yours is borderline suicidal. You're not throwing your life away on my watch. Get that through that thick head of yours."

Optimus had no reply, deciding it was best not to say anything from the look in Ratchet's optics.

"What, no retort? Guess I finally got through," Ratchet said. "That means you know I'm right, correct?"

Optimus stared at the floor.

"Have you given any thought what will happen to the rest of us if something happens to you? How that would affect your people, the humans?" Ratchet asked. "And there is another consideration-do you really want to leave Rodimus alone to deal with everything? Is that what you want? He doesn't deserve that."

Ratchet noted with satisfaction how Optimus' head snapped up, the mix of emotions playing rapidly across his face as his optics met the medic's.

"Think about what I've said," he said. "I'm done for now, and I think we both need to get out of here for a while."

The medic grinned at his leader's confusion.

"C'mon," he said, helping Optimus to his feet. "There's a gathering tonight in the rec room tonight."  
\-----

The energon was flowing and so was the beer. Graham wasn't supposed to know that, but how could he not when somebody handed him a can as he passed by? Arcee and Sunstreaker made their news publicly known. Not like everyone hadn't heard or at least expected something was going on with the Autobots. New life was reason enough among humans to celebrate, but for the Autobots, it was a precious thing indeed.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, so to speak, they'd have to let Gen. Morshower know now that the Autobots made the announcement about Arcee's twins official. Hopefully they could keep the news quiet until the general returned from vacation. Graham didn't want to have to explain that one to Galloway. Suddenly the thought of being on hand during that discussion between the national security advisor and Rodimus made the soldier throw back his beer and reach for another.

Speaking of the devil, the young Autobot was suddenly down on one knee in front of him, gazing down at him with a quizzical look.

"Everything all right?" Hot Rod asked.

"Yes. Good beer," Graham said.

Hot Rod shrugged, stood at his full height. "Just making sure," he said. "I didn't exactly give permission for this little gathering."

"Neither did I," Graham said. "But let's not ruin anyone's fun. You know as well as I do they all need this-human and Cybertronian alike. How many opportunities do we get to celebrate something good?"

"Not nearly enough," Hot Rod said.

"Who started this?" Graham said.

"Sideswipe," Hot Rod said. "Once he found out he won the betting pool. Arcee's carrying a pair of mechs."

"When are they due?" Graham asked.

"Another month" Hot Rod said.

"That's all?" Graham said.

"Cybertronian gestation isn't nearly as long as a human's," Hot Rod said. "Well, if it's a mech doing the carrying, it lasts a little longer. Ratchet can explain it better than I can."

"Anyone else planning on. . .ah, staring a family?" Graham said.

Hot Rod snorted. "Beats me," he said. "Except if Springer and Ironhide aren't careful. . ."

"If Springer and Ironhide aren't careful what'll happen?"

Hot Rod suddenly stopped talking at the sound of that voice. Graham choked on his beer.

Kup.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Uh, nothing," Hot Rod muttered. "Gotta go. C'mon Graham."

Hot Rod strode off, Graham running to keep up. Kup watched them go, glad Hot Rod looked like he was having a good time. The night's festivities were not time to take up a certain issue with his Prime. Optimus and he needed to have another little talk, and not just about Hot Rod. Kup pushed the anger from his mind. Arcee was carrying twins, and by Sunstreaker? Optimus wasn't the only one who needed a good talking to.


	31. Talk

Precipitous

Chapter 31-Talk

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Sitting shoulder to shoulder was as close to a public display of affection as Ironhide would come. Springer was beside him, their shoulders barely touching. They shared a comfortable silence. For the most part. Springer would snipe back at Sideswipe or Sunstreaker occasionally, or encourage Prowl's drinking. Not a good idea. Never was, but that didn't keep Prowl from tossing back energon or Jazz and Ratchet to back down either.

Ironhide was pleasantly buzzed, enjoying the antics of those around him, with one exception. Optimus was off in a corner, by himself, optics shuttered, looking like he was in recharge. The weapons specialist reflected his leader should probably be in the med bay, but Ratchet had dragged him to the rec room himself. He still lacked his right arm, but part of his chest armor was back in place, which was a good sign. Optimus' aloneness, on the other hand, was not.

The black mech placed a hand on Springer's shoulder, nodded in Optimus' direction.

"I'm going to go check on him," Ironhide said.

"All right," Springer said, watching Ironhide go, then turned his attention back to the latest round of drinking game between Prowl and Jazz.

Optimus didn't move when he heard footsteps, merely onlined his optics to see who it was.

"Go back to Springer," he said. "I'm fine here the way I am."

"Alone? You should go find Rodimus," Ironhide said. "Talk. Maybe share a little energon. Or more."

Optimus vented air, sighing.

"Ironhide. . ."

"I can go find him if you'd like," Ironhide said.

"I think Rodimus has had enough of me for one day," Optimus said. "'Hide, I told you I'm fine. I'm comfortable, and I'm not really alone."

"You're sure?" Ironhide asked.

Optimus nodded, settling back, letting himself drift into recharge.  
\-----

Warm sand under his back, the crash of waves on the shore lulled Graham into a peaceful state. Happiness was a fleeting thing in his line of work, and he was letting himself enjoy it. He let down his guard, just for a few hours. Rodimus sat beside him.

"If you're thinking about what needs to be done tomorrow, stop right now," Graham said.

Hot Rod regarded his friend with amusement.

"I'm not," he said.

"Thinking about Optimus then?" Graham asked, immediately regretting it. He wasn't so inebriated he couldn't recognize his own stupidity.

"What makes you think that?" Hot Rod said.

Graham sat up, suddenly very interested in brushing sand off himself.

"No reason," he said.

"Really?" Hot Rod said.

"Well, just wondering. . ." Graham muttered. "You two've been treating each other with a little more respect than usual."

"I'm just trying to be civil and do my job until Optimus comes back to active duty," Hot Rod said.

"No other reason? None at all?" Graham asked, hopeful.

"Graham, what is wrong with you?" Hot Rod asked. "Did you have too much to drink? Do you need to see a medic?"

"No," Graham said, throwing himself back down on the sand. "Apparently I haven't had enough to drink tonight. Neither have you."

"I think you've had just enough," Hot Rod said. "Damn delusional humans. That stuff your species drinks is toxic, if you need to be reminded. . .no offense, but. . ."

"None taken," Graham said. "Can you give me a ride back to the barracks?"

Hot Rod watched Graham stand on wobbly legs, ready to reach out and steady his friend if he exhibited signs of further loss of motor control.

"Well?" Graham said, glaring up at the young Autobot.

"No, I thought I'd head back on my own and let you walk," Hot Rod said, laughing as he transformed.

"Jackass," Graham said, climbing inside the Autobot.  
\-----

The rec room was mostly empty, save for the two Autobots sitting at one table, surrounded by empty energon cubes. Ironhide was well past pleasantly buzzed, listening to Kup talk about sun harvesters, dead Primes, and how a certain still-living Prime would get his aft handed to him if he didn't start answering questions. Ironhide was only half-listening, head resting on his folded arms on the table. He let Kup talk. The ancient mech could outtalk Blurr.

". . .I should kick his aft to Cybertron and back for treating the lad so and I thought he knew better? Alpha Trion would have his head if he knew what was going on and maybe I should remind Prime of that. What would his creator think? And what is Optimus thinking, well, honestly, I don't think he is. . ." Kup said.

Ironhide hmphed at that.

"What?" Kup asked.

"Optimus has been exceptionally stubborn these past few months," Ironhide said, lifting his head up.

Kup cocked an optic ridge. "Worse than usual?"

"You have no idea," Ironhide said. "There are things he needs to tell Rodimus, and he won't. He won't even talk to me anymore. . ."

"What things?" Kup asked. Now that he had been through the Xantium's archives, he had a clearer picture of just what had happened over the past few months. But he wanted to hear it from someone who had actually been involved.

"Things," Ironhide said, laying his head back down on his arms. "Important things."

"Like?" Kup said, waiting.

His answer was the soft intake and venting of air from Ironhide as he settled into recharge.


	32. Disregard

Precipitous

Chapter 32-Disregard

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Blessed darkness. At least it was quiet, with the exception of his own thoughts and fighting the urge to rub at his itching hand. At least it didn't hurt, and the day had ended well. Mostly. With the exception of the door to his quarters now open and the lights on, followed by footsteps.

"What're you doing here?"

"I was trying to recharge," Hot Rod said, boosting himself up onto his elbows, wishing he could just settle back on his berth. Instead, he gave Springer a tolerant smile. "I could ask you the same question. Why aren't you with Ironhide?"

Springer threw himself down on his own berth.

"'Hide's swapping stories with Kup, thought I'd let 'em have some time together to catch up," Springer said.

Hot Rod sat up.

"And make yourself scarce so Kup doesn't suspect anything," he said, grinning.

"We're gonna tell him, just not yet," Springer said, sitting down on his own berth.

"When?" Hot Rod said.

Springer shrugged.

"And you accused *me* of procrastinating," Hot Rod said.

"You're a Prime," Springer said. "That trumps my relationship with Ironhide."

"Yeah, well. . ."

"What?" Springer asked, crossing his arms.

"I don't know," Hot Rod said.

"You don't have to be so alone," Springer said. "You still have me to talk to. And I'm sure Kup still wants answers. I've been avoiding him not just for my sake."

"I've said all that needs saying about becoming a Prime," Hot Rod said.

"Uh huh," Springer said. "You never talk about it at all, unless you're yelling at Optimus about where he can shove being a Prime. . ."

"That's my business," Hot Rod said.

"Rodi, that's just it-it's not just your business anymore," Springer said. "Especially when you call out our leader in front of everyone. Don't get me wrong-you wouldn't be you if you weren't, sometimes. . .but things have changed. Expectations, the way the humans see you. . ."

Hot Rod stood.

"Don't remind me," he said.

"And you've changed," Springer said. "For the better. I know it's been hard, but even I can see some of that potential Kup's always talking about starting to shine through."

Hot Rod snorted.

"Seriously, Rodi, I'm proud of you. I don't know what I'd do if I was in your place," Springer said.

"You're a better leader that I'll ever be," Hot Rod said. "You lead the Wreckers. And what am I, second best to our revered Prime? C'mon, Spring, we both know I'll never be the leader Optimus is. . ."

Springer stood, placed his hands on his friend's shoulders.

"You're not second best," Springer said. "You're his equal-if only you'd see that. . .don't slide back into this doubt, Rodi. If Optimus Prime can't see you for who you truly are, then it's his loss. You might be a Prime, but you're still my best friend, you're still Hot Rod. That hasn't changed, and it never will. Just remember that."

Hot Rod nodded.

"Thanks, Spring," he said.  
\-----

Hot Rod counted backwards from 10, hoping Graham would show before their morning teleconference with Theodore Galloway. Not that he could blame him if he was late. His friend had overindulged with alcohol the night before, and before the day was out, Hot Rod was determined to give him another lecture on the dangers of the substance to humans. He was done counting when he heard the sound of hurried human footsteps.

Hot Rod looked down to see Graham pull up beside him, red-faced, breathing hard from his exertions. He scanned his friend-elevated heart rate, low blood sugar, oxygen saturation also low. Graham wasn't functioning within normal parameters because of his hangover, his run to the hangar and not eating breakfast.

"I think you and Ratchet need to have a talk," Hot Rod said as the main screen came to life, revealing the image of Galloway.

Graham shot him a look, but kept silent.

"Good morning," Hot Rod said, trying to be polite.

"Skip it," Galloway said. "You're late. I have only one question-what's with all the requests for scientific materials? I thought Optimus Prime said you weren't going to give us access to your advanced weaponry, but if your scientists are going to do research that could endanger our planet. . ."

Hot Rod balled his right fist in frustration. So it began. . .

"Optimus Prime gave final approval for the construction of a lab here at the base," Hot Rod said. "Gen. Morshower gave his blessing. And as to the research that will be conducted, Perceptor was the most renowned scientist on Cyberton before the war. A civilian scientist with more interest in creating ways to help your people and mine than to harm. If you don't believe me. . ."

"Fine, whatever," Galloway said. "We need to move on. I need an update on your operational status, and have you given any consideration to what we talked about yesterday-updating your command structure?"

"Our operational status is the same as yesterday," Hot Rod said. "And our command structure remains as it stands. Mr. Galloway, with all due respect, I don't think you truly understand what you would be asking we give up if we Autobots change the way we do things, so I'll forgive your ignorance. If that's all you have, then we're done."

Hot Rod caught the eye of one of the human technicians, who ended the transmission. He walked from the hangar, Graham again scrambling to keep up.

"Nice way to end the meeting," Graham said.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's not what Optimus meant when he said trying to keep control of the conversation and not show any weakness was the best way to deal with Galloway," Hot Rod said.

"No, probably not," Graham said. "But at least you didn't shout at him."

"Give me time," Hot Rod said. "C'mon. We've got a long day ahead of us."  
\-----

The rec room. Looked different in the morning light with a hangover, Kup reflected. Not better. Just full of light and noise and half the fragging base grabbing their morning energon. Kup almost turned around and walked out, but a couple of things caught his optics, giving him second thoughts-like social butterfly Jazz sitting by himself near the entrance, looking unhappy. Every now and then, the mech's optics would dart to another table, where Prowl and Sideswipe were talking. Also interesting was how close Ironhide and Springer were sitting, voices so low the ancient mech couldn't hear what they were talking about. However, they did notice his presence, at least it registered with Springer who stood so fast he knocked his chair over. Kup watched as the younger mech muttered an apology, leaving the rec room.

Ironhide watched Springer go, optics widening slightly under Kup's scrutiny. He guzzled down the rest of his energon, stood, walked past the ancient mech with only a nod.

Younglings, Kup thought, heading back to Jazz's table. If anyone would fill him in on just what the hell was going on, it would be him, he hoped.  
\-----

Ratchet had a splitting processor ache as he made his way to the med bay. He reminded himself to never get into another drinking game with Prowl and Jazz. The medic still couldn't believe he'd let Prowl outdrink him. Prowl even left Jazz in the dust. How Prowl was still standing that morning, Ratchet didn't understand. Nor for once, did he care. He had too much to think about now, most of which involved his errant, stubborn leader. Ratchet still managed keeping an eye on Optimus during the previous night's festivities, hadn't liked what he'd seen. Optimus in the corner, by himself, making excuses when anyone asked him to join them, feigning recharge. He'd even managed to get Ironhide to leave him alone, which meant Optimus had been tired, or just really good at lying. Either way, it was the last straw, and Ratchet meant to do something about it.

He entered the med bay, turned on the lights, optics centering on his lone patient.

"Are you awake?" Ratchet asked.

"I have been for some time," Optimus said. "I was hoping we could talk."

Hmm, Ratchet thought. Maybe this was a good sign.

"Talk about what?" he said.

Optimus pushed himself up with his good arm. "Am I recovered enough to leave the med bay? I'm not getting any work done here, and I am falling behind every day I sit here. . ."

He trailed off, noticing the look on the medic's face. Calm. No signs of hostility yet, and his arms were crossed, like he wasn't convinced he was hearing what he was hearing. Optimus continued.

"I feel rested, and there's no reason why I can't resume at least some of my duties," he said.

"What do you have in mind?" Ratchet asked, interested in what Optimus thought he could be doing. He cocked an optic ridge when his leader perked up at that.

"I feel I can manage a return to my day to day duties, the administrative side, no combat," Optimus said. "You've allowed Arcee to remain active in her condition, so I don't see why. . ."

Ratchet walked over to his berth, pulled up his stool and sat down.

"You're right, we do need to talk," he said.  
\-----

Jazz tried to excuse himself when he saw Kup coming, but his former mentor and commanding officer had a firm grip that steered him back into his chair. The day kept getting better and better, he reflected. He resigned himself to the company.

"What do you want old-timer?" he asked as Kup sat down.

"Information," Kup said.

That took Jazz by surprise. Curious, he settled back.

"What kind of information?" Jazz said.

"The kind that fills in blanks," Kup said.

"I take it your little side trip the other day up to the Xantium included more than just checking up on Wheeljack?" Jazz said.

"Something like that," Kup said. "I have an idea of what's been going on since you all landed on this backwater, but I'm just curious why no one's had the sense or the mettle to tell me face to face."

Kup's optics were locked on his own, looking right through him, just like he had the first time they'd met. Jazz hadn't lied then and he couldn't now, but it didn't keep him from twitching ever so slightly. Optimus Prime had made it very clear he didn't want to talk about what had happened in Egypt, so no one did.

"It's not like it's a secret," Jazz finally said. "But Optimus doesn't want to talk about it, and he hasn't."

Kup sat back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"Then why were the mission and incident reports encrypted and buried so deep in the Xantium's memory core it took an omega-level security clearance to find them?" Kup said. "And did he honestly think no one would see the name 'Optimus Prime' on a fatality list? You can't tell me that was a mistake. I'm not blind and I'm not stupid. I couldn't find anything about the Matrix and how it came to be here, but I know it's here, and Hot Rod's carrying it. And I'm guessing it was somehow used to bring. . ."

"That's enough, Kup," Jazz said. "It's over and done."

"My aft," Kup said. "This isn't even close to being done."


	33. Lapse

Precipitous

Chapter 33-Lapse

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Why did patients always try to talk their way out of the med bay? Didn't matter who was in charge or what was wrong, they always wanted out, no matter how logical, simple and polite the explanation. Ratchet knew he was a terrible patient himself, and wondered if his current situation wasn't payback for all the times he'd been a bad patient. His head hurt. Hadn't even started the conversation yet, but he felt a dull ache right behind his optics which promised to get worse. He cycled air, vented it. Calm and rational. He was going to be calm and rational and give Optimus Prime a good talking-to. Damn idiot needed it.

"So. . ." Ratchet started, mulling over his options. Optimus was comparing his situation to Arcee's? No comparison. Not even close. "Arcee? Not really comparable, Prime. You know she's on light duty only, and she has strict orders not to overdo it, and she hasn't. You, on the other hand, if given an inch, will take a mile, as the humans say."

Optimus glared.

"You know I'm right," Ratchet said. "You've done well while you've been in here this time, but it's only because I've been here baby-sitting you every day, keeping you from working yourself senseless when you need to be resting, healing. Need I remind you you're recovering from some very serious injuries? It's just the latest in a long line of wounds that you haven't let heal properly. And I'm not just talking about the physical wounds. You have a lot you haven't dealt with, and that isn't helping either. . ."

The medic frowned, trailing off when he noticed Optimus' gaze had shifted slightly. The Autobot leader was no longer looking at him. Instead, he was looking past Ratchet at the mech standing in the med bay doorway.

Rodimus. Great.

"What do you want?" Ratchet asked.

"My hand is bothering me," Hot Rod said. "Perceptor said if it started itching, to see you or come to him, so. . ."

"Sit down," Ratchet said, pointing toward an empty berth.

Hot Rod complied, keeping his mouth shut as the medic started poking and prodding at his injured right hand.

"What's the problem?" Ratchet said.

"It itches," Hot Rod said.

"That's an easy fix," Ratchet said, turning to dig around in a cabinet. Finding the right container, he tossed it at Hot Rod.

"This salve should take care of the problem," he said. "Just use it when it itches. It's healing fine, by the way."

"Thanks, Ratch," Hot Rod said, standing. "Oh, wait, I have a favor to ask, if you don't mind. . ."

"What have you done now that's going to require medical dispensation?" Ratchet said, noticing Optimus had more than perked up since Rodimus' arrival.

"Not a damn thing," Hot Rod said. "It's Graham. He's not operating within acceptable parameters, and he hasn't done anything today to correct it, so I thought a reminder from you would go along way in helping him get back on the right track."

"Do it yourself," Ratchet snapped, wanting to return to his conversation with Optimus.

"I've tried, and he won't listen to me. It needs to come from an authority figure," Hot Rod said.

"Last time I checked, you're an authority figure," Ratchet said.

"You know what I mean," Hot Rod said. "I'm his friend, and even if I am a Prime, it just won't be the same, like it would coming from you, or even Optimus."

Ratchet again frowned. Why did everything with Rodimus always come down to thinking his being a Prime didn't mean the same thing as Optimus? Yet another issue he was going to have to work on. Or not. Red Alert was always better at counseling than he was, and if he had his gossip straight, the female medic and the young Prime were close, or once were. He shelved that thought for later consideration.

"I'll see what I can do," Ratchet said.

"Thanks," Hot Rod said.

"Wait. I can go take care of it now, if you don't mind sitting with slag head here for a while," Ratchet said.

Optimus looked offended.

"I do not need a baby-sitter," he said.

"Whatever," Ratchet snorted, ignoring Optimus. "I'm not keeping you from anything, am I, Rodimus?"

"No," Hot Rod said. "Just a never-ending stack of reports."

"Good," Ratchet said.  
\-----

Getting reamed by Kup wasn't a good way to start the day. Prowl and Sideswipe were strike number two. Strike three arrived in the form of trying to reason with an injured Ironhide. Jazz wanted to smash his head into a wall until he was unconscious. At the time, including members of the Wreckers in their drill had seemed like a good idea. Not like they'd bothered running the idea by Rodimus, Prowl, Springer or Graham. No. Ironhide had simply decided that morning, for a change of pace, they were going to include Roadbuster and Drift. One brief conversation with Blaster and an orbital jump later, the shooting started.

"Trouble" didn't even begin to cover it. Not even close. Orbital jumps were restricted to emergency situations only, and live fire exercises were to be planned out to the very last detail. This was get thrown into the brig for a very long time material. And it wasn't Rodimus Jazz was afraid of. Instead, it was Prowl. He didn't want to face Prowl because he knew what the Autobot second-in-command would say when he found out. However, at the moment, Prowl's imaginary lecture was being drowned out by Ironhide, who was arguing with Roadbuster.

". . .I told you it's only a scratch," Ironhide said, batting away the big mech's hands as he tried to help him up.

"My aft," Drift said. "If it had been a closer shot we'd be calling you 'stumpy' right now. You're lucky that leg's still attached to your body."

"Attached" wasn't the word Jazz would've used. "Hanging by a few cables and an almost burned beyond recognition servo" fit better.

"If dumb and dumber hadn't got in the way, this would've turned out different," Roadbuster said, pointing accusingly at Skids and Mudflap.

"It's called a diversion," Skids said.

"Diversion? More like stupidity," Drift said. "How about next time we just line you two up and use you as targets? I'm sure Prime wouldn't mind. . ."

Jazz pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. His head was starting to throb and oh Primus why was he suddenly having to be the responsible one? Not that he minded, but this was crazy. He worked better alone, special ops and all that. Maybe he could convince Rodimus to let him go search for the Combaticons? Had to be safer and quieter than Diego Garcia at the moment. . .

"Enough!" Jazz snapped. "Nobody is using anybody else for target practice."

"But those two little glitches need to be taught a lesson. . ." Drift started.

The Wrecker suddenly found himself toe to toe and optic to optic with the Autobot third in command.

"And you need to be taught some respect," Jazz said. "You might be a Wrecker, and the best there is at what you do, but you're here now and you will do as I say. Clear?"

Drift frowned, but backed down. "Crystal."

"Good," Jazz said. "You just volunteered yourself to go get Ratchet."  
\-----

"How did the morning briefing go?" Optimus asked, steeling himself for the answer.

"It was short," Hot Rod said.

"That's all?" Optimus said.

"Yeah," Hot Rod said.

"How's Kup settling in?" Optimus said.

"Cranky," Hot Rod said. "I think he needs something to do besides run training drills and help out in ops."

"You could give him something to do," Optimus said.

"I've been thinking about it, but I didn't want to do anything without running it by you first," Hot Rod said, sitting down on the berth by Optimus' own.

"Rodimus, right now, you are Prime, you're in charge, and you do not have to run anything by me," Optimus said. "Unless you feel it necessary."

"Well, I'll see what I can come up with," Hot Rod said, getting annoyed with small talk. "If you're going to pump me for information on how things are going, all you have to do is ask. Quit treating me like I don't know what I'm doing. If you don't trust me to do the job I've been given, then just relieve me of duty and put Prowl in charge. If you want to ask me something, just ask, same goes for just talking. You want to know something, quit dancing around the issue. I'm not a sparkling, and I'm not going to break under pressure."

Optimus vented air, sighing.

"I was merely trying to make conversation," he said.

"I know," Hot Rod said. "It's hard, being laid up, I know. Has Ratchet said anything about when you might get out of here?"

Optimus shrugged. "We were talking about it before you arrived," he said. "I doubt he'll let me assume all of my duties at once. . ."

"But something is better than nothing," Hot Rod said.

"Yes," Optimus said.

Hot Rod started to say something, but his optics suddenly gained a blank look as he was commed. He stood.

"Gotta go," he said. "That was Prowl. Don't worry. I'll fill you in later."


	34. Mistakes

Precipitous

Chapter 34-Mistakes

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod stood by, listening as Springer dressed down Roadbuster and Drift. With no humans around, Springer had switched back to Cybertronian, which allowed profanity with nuances and combinations the humans couldn't begin to imagine. The young Autobot had kindly offered Optimus Prime's office for Springer's use.

". . .and if you EVER use those kind of weapons and tactics that close to humans again outside of a real combat situation, you'll wish you'd never been sparked," Springer finished. He looked at Hot Rod. "Have anything to say?"

"I think you said it all," Hot Rod said. "Besides, they're under your direct command, not mine. You answer to the Prime, remember? That hasn't changed."

Drift and Roadbuster exchanged a glance.

"Did I give you permission to move?" Springer snarled. "Get out of here."

The two Wreckers beat a hasty retreat. Springer waited until the door was shut to throw himself down in a chair. "Primus, I hated having to do that, but they deserved it," he said. "I wonder how Jazz is faring with Prowl."

"I don't know," Hot Rod said. "I feel kinda sorry for Jazz. I told him I'd handle it all, but he volunteered to tell Prowl what happened. It would've been quicker than getting an account from Skids and Mudflap."

Springer grinned. "I know," he said. "But they provided a perfect opportunity for me."

"Yeah. Wonder how long it'll be before Drift kills you in your sleep because you said the twins conducted themselves with more maturity than he and Roadbuster?" Hot Rod said.

"He'll get over it," Springer said. "Maybe he was right though-they have been cooped up too long up on the Xantium. Would you consider working the crew into the duty rotation here at the base?"

Hot Rod sat back in his chair, considering the request. It was actually a good idea.

"And we could rotate some of the personnel here up to the Xantium, just to give them a change of pace," he said.

Springer raised an optic ridge. "You don't have to get Optimus to approve this?"

"No," Hot Rod said.

"Speaking of the Wreckers, why don't you talk to Red while she's here? I'm sure she'd like some normal company after she and Ratchet finish with Ironhide's leg. . ." Springer said, testing the waters. Rodi was spending entirely too much time lately wrapped up in work, and not taking any time for himself.

"Spring, I've told you before-not a chance. We're just friends," Hot Rod said, suddenly turning his attention to a data pad on the desk.

"So there's no chance you're interested in starting a relationship with anyone? Not even Optimus?" Springer asked. "I told you before-if you want something, go after it. It's not like you to just walk away. Is something keeping you from it? Or are you just afraid?"

Hot Rod didn't have a chance to answer. The door to the office was chiming.

"Duty calls," he said.  
\-----

Ratchet watched as Red Alert put away the last of the tools. The med bay was back in proper order, excepting the large black metal mass occupying a surgical berth.

"Do you need anything else?" Red Alert asked.

"Besides some high grade and a ticket off this planet? No," Ratchet answered. "I'm going to stay a while and keep an eye on aft head here."

Red Alert regarded Ironhide's inert form.

"I don't think he's going anywhere," she said.

"He won't stay under much longer and when he wakes, he'll try and leave," Ratchet said.

"If he needs a sitter, get Springer to do it. Or I can stay until he can. You need to get some rest," Red Alert said. "No arguing this time. And I promise to stop by and check on Optimus."

Ratchet sighed. He was tired. Damn crazy slaggers anyway.

"All right. Stay. Call me if you need anything, and I'll check on Optimus on my way to my quarters. He better still be in his," Ratchet said.

Red gave the mech a friendly squeeze on the shoulder as he passed by.  
\-----

Kup slowed as he reached the stretch of beach that was quickly becoming a favorite. He wasn't alone. Another Autobot already occupied the spit of sand, and considering who it was, Kup didn't mind sharing. Arcee smiled up at the ancient mech when she saw him coming her way. She stood, hugged Kup, then sat back down, and he followed suit.

"Exciting day, wasn't it?" Arcee asked.

"'Exciting' isn't the word I'd use," Kup said.

"How's Prowl?" Arcee said.

"Angry, and relieved of duty until tomorrow," Kup said. "And damn Hot Rod. . .he picked *me* as duty officer in ops for tonight, I'm also to take over special ops until Jazz gets back. He also managed to tick off Springer, making him acting third in command. . ."

"He's just doing his job," Arcee said.

Kup snorted.

"Enough about all that. There's something I've been meaning to ask. . .Sunstreaker? Mind if I ask why, or is that too personal a question?"

Arcee smiled. Same old Kup.

"Not really," she said. "You're the only who's asked. He's self-centered and crazy, but once you get to know him, he's not so bad."

"I know, lass," Kup said. "Congratulations. I know it's twins, but are they mechs or femmes?"

"Thank you," she said. "A pair of mechs."

"How'd Ratchet and Prowl take it when they found out it was twins?"

"About as well as you'd think," Arcee said. "Prowl crashed. Ratchet collapsed, although I think he had help with that from Red Alert. It's funny now, but at the time. . ."

"Chaos. No matter their respective opinion, new life is a gift, regardless of who sparked it," Kup said. "Considering we're on the verge of being an endangered species, it's a blessing. I wish you and Sunstreaker the best of luck."

"Primus knows we're going to need it," Arcee said. "But Sunny is happy and nervous, and Sideswipe is almost as excited as he is. He even suggested a name we both like, and we're going to use it. We still need another name, but we have a little time."

"I have another question," Kup said. "What about Hot Rod? He chased you for years. What changed?"

Arcee wasn't expecting that. She knew she could save herself the trouble, but it was Kup who was asking. He deserved nothing short of honesty. She had her own personal reasons as to why it wasn't Rodimus who was the sire of her offspring, but Kup didn't need to know that.

"It isn't me he wanted," Arcee said.  
\-----

Optimus Prime dimmed the lights to his quarters, laid back on his berth, ready for recharge. It was early, compared to his usual standards, but he was under strict orders to rest. Threatened within an inch of his life was more like it. Ratchet had stopped by not long before, exploded with a short tirade and left. Optimus knew the CMO could've made him stay in the med bay, but the presence of his two most fractious patients at the same time was too much to deal with, even with one unconscious. The Autobot leader was glad for even a brief respite from the med bay and Ratchet's constant presence.

He was almost in recharge when the door to his quarters opened. With difficulty, Optimus propped himself up with his one arm, raising an optic ridge when he saw who had entered. Rodimus.

"I think I just did something incredibly stupid," Hot Rod said.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure you did what you thought was best," Optimus said. From where he was sitting he could sense Rodimus' buzzing energy field and he could see the uncertainty on the young mech's face.

Hot Rod snorted, showing a bit of his customary cockiness. "I'm sure you won't be so calm and reassuring when you find out what I did," he said.

"Then explain," Optimus said.

Hot Rod sighed. No use in postponing the inevitable.

"I just gave Jazz permission to take Drift and go looking for the Combaticons," he said. "Look, it all happened so fast and I didn't know what to do and Kup had to help me separate Jazz and Prowl before they tore each other apart. They were yelling at each other, and we could hear them from the corridor, and I think we interrupted something personal from the way things sounded and before I could ask what was going on Jazz was saying he needed to get away, he's suffocating here with the same thing day in and day out, and he asked and I said yes, and they're probably in Mexico by now because that's where the last NEST intel was, and oh Primus. . ."

Optimus stood, grabbed Hot Rod by the shoulder, dragged him back to the berth, forced him to sit, sat down beside him. Against his better judgment, he decided to listen, because he felt Rodimus wasn't done.

"And Prowl. . .I told him he was relieved from duty until at least tomorrow, and Kup's in charge in ops tonight. I also pissed off Springer with making him acting third in command until Jazz gets back, so if he drops by and complains, you'll know why," Hot Rod said. "Ironhide's fine, by the way, but I suppose you know how all that happened, right?"

"Ratchet said it was a 'training accident,'" Optimus said.

"Yeah. . ." Hot Rod said. "Did he bother to elaborate?"

"As usual, I assume Ironhide's lack of good judgment snowballed into the situation you've been dealing with?" Optimus asked.

"Something like that," Hot Rod said. "But this thing with Jazz and Prowl-that's new. Jazz hasn't been very happy about something the past few days. . .and Prowl's been spending a lot of off-duty time with Sideswipe. . ."

Optimus watched as realization set in.

"Maybe I should be paying more attention to what's been going on around me and I wouldn't be having to deal with this now," Hot Rod said.

"Wise words," Optimus said. "However, even I do not know everything, no matter how hard I try."

"And we shouldn't let personal matters spill over into how we do our jobs," Hot Rod said. "Except I can't even follow my own advice. . .I should let you get some rest, or Ratchet will kill me. I'm sorry, Optimus. I should have handled this better. . ."

He started to stand, but Optimus put a hand on his shoulder.

"You handled the situation the way you thought it should be handled," Optimus said.

"You mean you're not angry?" Hot Rod said.

"No," Optimus said. "As I told you earlier today, you are in charge right now, not I. And yes, I should get some rest. So should, Rodimus. You can stay here. My offer to use my quarters still stands."


	35. Interruptions

Precipitous

Chapter 35-Interruptions

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

There were times Sideswipe wanted to throttle his twin. Times like now. Reason wouldn't work. Never did when Sunny was worked up. Reason as it applied to their relationship. . .funny. The silver twin would've been laughing if it wasn't for the murderous gleam in Sunstreaker's optics. Then again, it was none of Sunny's business where he'd been and what he was doing.

"You just had to go and do it, didn't you?" Sunstreaker said.

"Sunny, slag off," Sideswipe said, rolling his optics. "I've told you already-it's none of your business."

He suddenly found himself pinned against the wall by his brother.

"Damn straight it is my business when you're 'facing the second in command," Sunstreaker hissed. "Are you out of your mind? I hope you get this out of your system fast, because when Prowl realizes you're just playing around, he's going to kill you."

Sideswipe shoved Sunstreaker away.

"I'm not playing around," Sideswipe said. "So slag off. It's not like we intended for it to happen. . .it just happened. Look-Prowl's angry with Jazz, I thought they'd talked things out, but I don't know. . .frag it. Sunny, just leave me alone, all right?"

He turned away from Sunstreaker, shoulder slumped, head hanging.

"'Sides. . ."

"Sunny, go back to Arcee. I just can't deal with you right now," Sideswipe said.

Sunstreaker started to reach out to his brother, but pulled back. He could suddenly feel how much his twin was hurting from what he'd said.

"I'm. . ."

"Sorry, yeah, I know, Sunny. You're always sorry. Let it go," Sideswipe said, walking away.  
\-----

:Where the frag are you? Back in your quarters? Because I just checked there. Get your aft to ops: Kup snarled.

Hot Rod was now fully awake. :I'm not in my quarters: he commed back. :What's up?:

:Not in your quarters?: Kup asked. :Slag it sparkling, three cometary forms just entered Earth's atmosphere:

:On my way: Hot Rod answered. He started to pull away from the recharging bulk of Optimus Prime, who stirred when he no longer felt a warm frame against his own.

"I'm needed in ops," Hot Rod said, giving Optimus' shoulder a squeeze. He waited a moment, watched as the other mech settled back into recharge. He exited Optimus' quarters, reluctant to leave, not wanting to walk away from the one comfort the Autobot leader was willing to share with him. Recharging together wasn't much, but it had to be enough. No matter. Hot Rod pushed it from his mind as he walked to ops, earning a glare from Kup as he entered the ancient mech's view.

"I thought I told you to comm me instead of coming to get me," Hot Rod said.

"What, sharing a berth with someone you don't want to admit to?" Kup asked.

"Kup, stow it," Hot Rod said. "What's going on? Have those cometary forms come down yet?"

"Less than 10 seconds ago on the North American continent," Kup said. "Southern Arizona, 57 miles southeast of Quartzsite. Before they entered the atmosphere, Blaster said the Xantium received a two-second data burst on a frequency used only by the Cybertronian Security Forces. I confirmed it-it's Hound, Mirage and Bluestreak."

"Does Prowl know?" Hot Rod asked.

"Not yet," Kup said.

"I'll tell him," Hot Rod said. "And sound the alert. We're wheels up in 20 minutes."

Waking to find Sideswipe gone and an alert going off didn't help Prowl's already sour mood. Facing down a stubborn, insolent punk of a Prime wasn't helping. Prowl was anything but cool and logical as he bit back a retort while he listened to Rodimus explain his reasons for not letting him come on the retrieval mission.

"I need you here," Hot Rod said. "I trust you. Everyone, human and Autobot, trusts you. You know the routine, you can deal with Galloway and everything else until I get back. Prowl, you're the calmest, most logical mech on base."

"There's no reason why. . .it's Bluestreak. I thought he was gone. . ."

"I can think of plenty why you should stay here," Hot Rod said. "Now shut up and follow orders or I'll have you thrown in the brig for insubordination. I know you want to see your brother, but I like I said, I need you here. I promise I'll bring Blue back safe and sound."

Prowl shut his mouth, crossed his arms. "Who are you taking with you?"

"Ratchet, Jolt, Blurr. I don't want to leave you too thin if something else pops up," Hot Rod said. "And if Red gives you any problems and tries to get her aft back up to the Xantium, let Kup handle it. They've been avoiding each other for far too long."

"Anything else?" Prowl asked.

"No. . .well, yes. . .I'm sorry for how I handled everything with you and Jazz earlier. I had no right to interfere," Hot Rod said, clapping Prowl on the shoulder.

"No apologies needed," Prowl said. "But the sentiment is appreciated."

Hot Rod nodded, walking away.


	36. Complications

Precipitous

Chapter 36-Complications

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ironhide was on the edge of recharge. He'd finally convinced Springer to go get some rest, promising he wouldn't try to leave the med bay. He onlined completely when he heard footsteps coming down the corridor. They stopped when the mech making the noise stopped by his berth.

"Optimus, if you were trying to stealthy, you failed," Ironhide said, half-sitting. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking up on you," Optimus said.

"I'm fine," Ironhide said. "I'll be even better if you'll help me get out of here. . ."

He sat completely up, swinging himself around, gingerly setting his right leg on the ground, testing it.

"Try it and if you fall, I'm leaving you there," Optimus said.

Ironhide grunted. "Some friend you are," he said.

Optimus grinned. "Crazy slagger. I won't help you and I'll be gone before Red Alert gets back," he said. "I fear her more than Ratchet."

"You're afraid of one tiny femme?" Ironhide said.

"That 'tiny femme' was trained by Ratchet and is the medic for the Wreckers," Optimus said. "If you want to cross her, go right ahead. I'm sure she'd like to use those cannons of yours for unauthorized medical procedures." Optimus fought hard to hold back his rising laughter at the look on Ironhide's face-a mix of horror and disbelief.

"No one touches my babies but me," Ironhide said, crossing his arms.

Optimus couldn't hold back anymore. He started laughing, earning himself a dirty look from his friend.

"Good thing my weapons systems are offlined or I'd be using those cannons to give *you* an unauthorized medical procedure," Ironhide said.

"Surely not," Optimus said, sitting down by Ironhide.

"Want to bet?" Ironhide muttered.

Optimus decided changing subjects was a sound tactic. Ironhide didn't like being teased about the size of his cannons.

"Where is Springer?" Optimus asked.

"I told him to go get some rest," Ironhide said.

"He actually left you alone knowing you'd try and leave?" Optimus said.

"I promised him I'd stay here, and damn it, if he doesn't trust me," Ironhide said.

"Leave the med bay without medical authorization and there is nothing I can do to help you," Optimus said.

"Won't help is more like it," Ironhide said. "You're Prime. Ratchet is not, although he seems to think he wields as much authority as you. He's a medic, a fine one, but have you ever considered maybe you've let him have too much authority when it comes to keeping your troops in his domain against their will?"

Optimus raised an optic ridge. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe sometimes some of my troops don't have any common sense when it comes to what's best for them when they're injured?" he asked.

"Like who?" Ironhide asked, feigning innocence.

"I couldn't possibly imagine," Optimus said.

"Speaking of knowing what's best, why are you being so stubborn when it comes to a certain young Prime?" Ironhide said.

Optimus frowned, not liking the turn the conversation was taking. "Stubborn in what respect? If there is a stubborn Prime on this base, it is Rodimus," he said.

"You know what I'm getting at, or do I need to spell it out? He's attracted to you, if you haven't noticed. You two could be 'facing each other senseless right now," Ironhide said. "Bonded, maybe sparking a little Prime or two. . ."

"My personal life is not fodder for speculation," Optimus drawled, keeping his tone light, but the look in his optics said 'drop it 'Hide or you'll soon find yourself broken into so many pieces on the med bay floor no one will be able to put you back together.'

"My aft," Ironhide said, undeterred. His aft-headed best friend needed bashed over the processor with more than a little honesty. Prime or no Prime, Ironhide intended on making the slagger see, or die trying. He decided to try a different approach-guilt. Compassionate to a fault, Optimus couldn't bear the thought of anyone hurting, especially if he was the cause. Brilliant, Ironhide thought.

"Rodimus and I agreed. . ." Optimus started.

"No, more like *you* decided not to pursue a relationship once things were out in the open," Ironhide said. "Rodimus is probably keeping his feelings to himself out of respect for you. You're hurting him, and you don't even know it."

"I am aware of his feelings and we *both* agreed the pursuit of anything beyond a professional, working relationship is out of the question," Optimus said.

"Deny it all you like," Ironhide said. "You could be throwing away the best thing that's happened to you in a long time, and you don't even care. You're lucky you were given a second chance at life, and you throw it away."

"I'm not throwing anything away," Optimus said. "And don't bring up what happened in Egypt. You know how I feel about. . ."

Ironhide stood, facing his friend.

"Why do you have to be so thick?" Ironhide asked. "You haven't been the same since you came back from Egypt. I'm surprised Rodimus hasn't just put your head through a wall yet. That would knock some sense into you. . ."

He paused. It wasn't just Egypt that Optimus wouldn't talk about. It was what happened before that, protecting Sam, the battle with Megatron, Starscream and Grindor, dying-that Optimus never mentioned. Now that Ironhide thought about it, Optimus' death never came up. No one talked about it, including Optimus. And if Optimus didn't talk about it, did Rodimus even know?

"You haven't told him, have you?" Ironhide said, incredulous.

"What?" Optimus snapped.

"You haven't told Rodimus about dying, any of it, have you?"

Optimus stood, his expression unreadable. He walked past Ironhide without saying anything.  
\-----

Red Alert took one look at the lone mech occupying a table just inside the rec room entrance and started to turn around and leave. She heard the scraping of a chair being pulled out, stopped.

"Femme, I don't bite," Kup said.

She sighed, started to walk away again.

"You can't keep running," Kup said. "And I've never known you to back down from anything. So go ahead-prove me wrong."

The medic turned on her heel, walked over and sat down.

"Not so hard was it?" Kup said, offering the female Autobot a wry grin.

"Shouldn't a mech of your advanced age be getting some recharge?" Red Alert said.

"Too much to think about to rest," Kup said. "I just got off duty. What's your excuse for being up so late, or early?"

"0600 is not that early," Red Alert said. "And I don't have to give you a rundown of my itinerary for the day."

Kup snorted.

"At least I take my duties seriously, unlike some mechs I could name," Red Alert said, standing. She turned and walked away. She heard Kup hurrying to catch up with her. She stopped when she felt his hand on her arm.

"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?" Kup asked.

Red Alert didn't meet his optics. "Until I'm ready to forgive you," she said.  
\-----

Mid-afternoon. Frustrated, Prowl tossed aside the data pad containing the report he was working on. The events of the night before-his fight with Jazz and what had happened with Sideswipe weighed heavily on his mind. He needed to talk with Sideswipe, but both had their duties to attend. The fact Jazz and Drift had missed their scheduled communication check-in was also bothering him. Prowl was also trying to not think about Bluestreak.

Instead, he was kicking himself for letting his altercation with Jazz escalate into a physical confrontation, and for not listening to him when had the chance and not going after Sideswipe when he found him gone. Logic had gone straight out the window. Why had he let everything get so complicated? That question would have to go unanswered. Prowl sighed when his office door chimed. Springer entered.

"What can I do for you?" Prowl asked.


	37. Muddled

Precipitous

Chapter 37-Muddled

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Being back in his chair felt good. Optimus Prime didn't have much time to enjoy the sensation of being back where he belonged because Kup entered his office, one hand on Arcee's shoulder, guiding the femme inside. Already standing before him were Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, with Springer between them, a death grip on each mech's arm. Optimus frowned at the look Sideswipe was giving his twin, and Sunstreaker occasionally tried to pull away from Springer.

Optimus sighed. With Rodimus still hours away from returning and Prowl now absent, it had fell to him to deal with the latest problem at hand. Or more like Springer didn't want to have to deal with it. The Autobot leader knew that wasn't the case, though. Springer had tried wringing the reason for Arcee's sudden burst of violence toward Sunstreaker from both the twins and the enraged femme, but to no avail. He didn't witness the incident, but Kup had, filling him in before going to help Springer round up all involved.

"So," Optimus began. "Anyone want to explain what's going on?"

Silence greeted him. He gazed at the assembled Autobots. Sideswipe was at attention, Springer no longer holding onto him. Sunstreaker kept glancing from his twin to Arcee, who glared back.

"If no one wants to offer an explanation, there will be consequences," Optimus said. Again, he waited, but this time, the silence was broken by the sound of footsteps and the appearance of another Autobot.

"You bet your aft there are going to be consequences," Red Alert said, hands on hip, glaring at her leader. "Slag-heads, all of you."

"Arcee, med bay in half an hour," she said. "I'm sure I won't have to come looking for you."

Turning her attention to the twins, she smacked Sunstreaker in the back of the head. "Keep your damn nose out of other's business. What Sideswipe does on his own time is none of your concern," Red Alert said. "Upset Arcee again like that, and you will answer to me. Are we clear?"

Sunstreaker frowned at the medic, but nodded, slowly backing out the door. Satisfied she'd gotten through to everyone else in the room, Red Alert turned her attention to Optimus Prime. Before he could get away, she was beside him, hand wrapped around one of his antennae, attempting to drag him from his chair.

"Get up or I'll have Springer and Kup help drag you back to the med bay," she said. "You won't have a shred of dignity or self-respect left by the time I'm done with you if you don't stand up."

He stood slowly, giving the female Autobot a look that he was certain was capable of stopping Decepticons in their tracks. And he took a step back when he felt the medic start to scan him.

"I thought so. . ." she said. "Energy levels low, your repair subroutines are strained, and did you get any recharge last night?"

She didn't stop when he didn't answer.

"You've been out of the med bay a day, and you strain yourself," Red Alert said. "You're not doing yourself any favors by acting this way. Have you any idea just how precarious your situation is? Has Ratchet explained, or do you not listen?"

"I feel fine," Optimus said. "I want to go back to work. . ."

"Med bay. Now."  
\-----

42 hours later

Four more hours before landing at base. Hot Rod didn't doubt the pilot's calculations. He'd run the numbers himself several times. He wanted out of the plane, wanted to be free, able to transform, move around. So much time tied down and he was getting restless. He hadn't recharged at all since leaving Diego Garcia, and he knew Graham hadn't slept either. A quick scan of the humans strapped nearby showed his friend was indeed awake, one of the few in the plane's cargo hold who wasn't sleeping. Almost two days without sleep did not bode well for the human. One more worry in the back of his processor.

It had been a long couple of days. The flight to get to Arizona, followed by an argument with Hound once they'd actually made contact with the three new Autobot arrivals. Considering the scout could barely stand, how he'd mustered the energy for a fight, Hot Rod couldn't figure. Desperation, worry, relief, who knew? Being confronted with one of his former subordinates in charge of a combat operation instead of the Autobot leader or an officer was probably a shock.

Mirage was in decent shape but Bluestreak had wounds which were being treated by Ratchet on the Xantium. Hound wouldn't talk about how the young mech got hurt, and he also had information he would share with no one but Optimus Prime. And hearing Hot Rod referred to as "Rodimus" hadn't set well either. It had only further confused and angered the usually amiable Hound.

Now, though, Hound was strapped down in the second C-17 winging its way back to Diego Garcia. Mirage accompanied Ratchet and Blurr along with the unconscious Bluestreak up to the Xantium via orbital jump. Then there was the news Jazz and Drift had missed two communication check-ins. Things were not going well.

"You've been unusually quiet."

"Too much to think about," Hot Rod answered, scanning Graham. "And you should be asleep."

"You're not the only one that worries," Graham responded.

"I know," Hot Rod said.

"You're not alone, Rodimus," Graham said. "Remember that. I understand what you're going through. We share the same burden of leadership. It's not easy."

"Except you're not a Prime," Hot Rod said.

"No, but like you, I have to be prepared to step up if something happens to the officer above me. Even without having to deal with that, I still have my duties. And stop worrying. You handled the situation as well as you could. We've done our part, for now, so get some rest."

"I will if you will," Hot Rod retorted.

Graham gave him a tired smile. "I promise I'll try if you answer a couple of questions for me," he said.

"Ask away."

"Why did you request Prowl be given permission to go up to the Xantium? Is he close to Bluestreak?" Graham asked.

"Blue is Prowl's little brother," Hot Rod said. "They've been through a lot-especially Blue. He was the only survivor when the city of Praxus fell to the Decepticons."

Graham seemed content with that answer, and Hot Rod waited for more questions.

"What about the other two-Hound and Mirage? What are their functions?

"Hound was a unit commander in the security forces," Hot Rod explained. "Mirage is special ops, and they're bonded."

"Bonded?" Graham asked, making sure he'd heard right.

"Yeah, bonded," Hot Rod said. "I'm not explaining that one to Galloway."

"Neither am I," Graham said. "Not if I can help it."

"Anymore questions?" Hot Rod asked.

"No," Graham said.

"Then get some sleep," Hot Rod said.

Graham settled back in his seat, trying to get comfortable. A bonded pair. Perfect. How was he going to explain that one to his superiors?  
\-----

Optimus woke to the sound of voices-two familiar, one he hadn't heard in a very long time.

". . .I need to speak to Optimus," Hound said.

"He's recovering from injuries and it can wait," Ratchet said. "Or, there is another alternative. . ."

"No. Optimus. Now.

"Over my dead body," Hot Rod said.

Hound rounded on the younger mech. "You have no authority here," he said.

"He does too," Ratchet said, sighing. Obviously Rodimus hadn't bothered to explain anything. "Or have you forgotten how to show respect to your Prime?"

"Prime?" Hound said. "Optimus is Prime, not this, this sparkling."

Hot Rod, angry now, started to say something but he stopped when he saw Optimus rising off his berth. He backed away from the bigger mech, but was stopped when the bigger mech placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I have turned command over to Rodimus Prime while I recover from my injuries," Optimus said. "Treat him with the respect he deserves, Hound. I know you're confused, and whatever you have to say, Rodimus will listen. It can wait until morning. Rest, and all will be explained after."

Hound frowned, thinking a few seconds before backing down. He gave Optimus a faint smile, nodded at Ratchet and Hot Rod before heading in the direction of the quarters he and Mirage were assigned.

"I hope you intend to take your own advice," Ratchet said, turning his attention to Optimus. "Back to your berth. You, too, Rodimus. Recharge, or else."

\-----  
Out of the corner of his optic, Hot Rod could see Springer, standing over by the hangar door, arms crossed, seething.

:Get your aft over here: Hot Rod commed.

:No way in the Pit or hell: Springer replied. :You can deal with the squishy. I've had my fill. Make me do that again and I'll offline you. Permanently:

:Uh huh: Hot Rod said, unphased. :You only had to deal with Galloway for one day, Spring. One slagging meeting:

:Once was enough:

Hot Rod snorted, composing himself as the screen came alive, Galloway appearing from thousands of miles away.

"Rodimus," Galloway said. "Good to see you made it back in one piece. I believe you retrieved three more Autobots?"

"Yes, sir, three-Hound, Mirage and Bluestreak," Hot Rod said. "Hound and Mirage are here at base already, and both will be briefed on NEST this morning. Bluestreak is expected to come back online sometime today, and his status will be upgraded to operational when Ratchet thinks he's ready."

"What are their specialties?" Galloway asked.

"Hound is a combat unit leader and Mirage and Bluestreak are both special ops," Hot Rod said.

"Good," Galloway said. "And what is the status of Jazz's mission?"

"Ongoing," Hot Rod said.

"Ongoing? You don't have anything to report?"

"If there was anything to pass on, I would share it, but there has been no sign of any Decepticons," Hot Rod said.

"All right," Galloway said. "Oh, before I forget, is Springer there? He was supposed to tell me more about the orbital beaming technology on his ship. If he's not around, have him send me an e-mail. I want to know if this technology can be adapted so it won't kill humans. And one more thing-where is Capt. Graham?"

"Springer's here, waiting, sir, ready to give you your report. As to Graham, he's asleep, medic's orders," Hot Rod said. He turned to Springer, who walked over.

:I'm going to kill you:


	38. Queries

Precipitous

Chapter 38-Queries

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Mirage woke, finding Hound sitting up on the edge of their berth. He sat up, rolled off the berth, came to face his bond mate, arms crossed at the look on Hound's face.

"If you're planning on going behind Ratchet's back and talk to Optimus, don't count on any sympathy from me," Mirage said.

Hound looked up, cocking an optic ridge. "What makes you say that?" he asked.

"I know you too well," Mirage said. "And don't bother Kup with this either. He's busy with drills this morning, so just talk to Hot Rod and get to the bottom of all this. Tell him what you were going to tell Optimus, and let it go from there."

"I wasn't going to go behind Ratchet's back," Hound said. "Optimus made it very clear I was to speak to Hot Rod today."

"Good," Mirage said, smiling at his mate. "I know you were confused over finding Hot Rod in charge, but you should be proud. How many combat unit leaders can say they had a Prime as their second in command? You had a hand in training him. Be glad of that. At least it's someone you like and trust that's in charge."

"I know," Hound said. "It was just a shock."

"Then go," Mirage said. "You and I are scheduled for a briefing with Kup and Prowl at 1330 to go over the partnership with NEST. Don't forget."

"I won't," Hound said, standing, giving Mirage's shoulder a squeeze as he passed by.  
\-----

Guilt. Wasn't necessary, Ratchet thought, staring down at the data pad in his hand. He called it doing the right thing, or making the attempt. The final decision wasn't made, and he would not take that step yet. He had the authority, but he wasn't ready to wield it, not until he'd exhausted his last few possibilities. Up to now, he'd been hopeful reason would win out, but it hadn't. Optimus Prime would not listen. Except that wasn't what bothered Ratchet the most. The depth of his leader's denial and resistance to deal with issues he needed to face were the problem. The medic knew he couldn't make Optimus do that. No, that would come when the Autobot leader was ready.

He left his office, walked down the corridor to Red Alert's quarters. Yet another Autobot who needed to deal with issues left long dormant. Well, at least the other half of her problem was trying to make amends. Locking herself in her quarters when she wasn't on duty was her way of not having to face that mech. Ratchet did allow himself a small smile at the thought of what he knew was waiting in store for Red Alert on that front. But enough. He rang the chime, waited for the other medic to answer the door.

She nodded as he entered.

"Here's all the data," Ratchet said, handing Red Alert the data pad. "Everything I have on Optimus Prime-routine maintenance, injuries, repairs, upgrades, all of it, from our time on the Ark to now. I don't need your opinion this minute, but I'd like it as soon as you can come up with a recommendation. I'm also sharing the data with Perceptor, and now that Wheeljack is awake, Perceptor is going to consult with him."

Red Alert took the data pad. "You're serious about this then," she said.

"I've never been more serious about anything in my life," Ratchet answered.

"Have you talked to Rodimus about this yet?" Red Alert said.

"No," Ratchet said. "But I will."

Optimus Prime's office. Except it wasn't Optimus Prime behind the desk. Hot Rod was sitting there instead.

"Settling in all right?" Hot Rod asked, standing as Hound entered the office.

"Our quarters are adequate," Hound said. "And Mirage and I can't wait to see more of this planet."

"That's good to hear," Hot Rod said, sitting. "I don't mean to be blunt, but I have a busy day ahead of me, and whatever it is you needed to say to Optimus last night, you can tell me now."

"Same old Hot Rod," Hound said, giving the young Autobot a smile. "Still haven't learned tact, have you?"

"Apparently not," Hot Rod said, grinning back.

"You're going to have to fill me in on all that's happened," Hound said. "And now you need to know what I know. Six days ago, as we were on our approach to Earth, all three of us were scanning for Autobot communications, but instead, we managed to pick up a nanosecond-long burst on a Cybertronian frequency from among the moons of the sixth planet of this solar system-Saturn. The message was unintelligible, and against orders, Bluestreak broke off to go investigate. We followed him, only to find he'd been attacked, by a Decepticon-Skywarp. We fought him off, and proceeded on our way here."

Hot Rod frowned. "You think there might be more hiding out there?"

"Possibly," Hound said. "What is the status of Decepticons here on Earth?"

"Scattered and hiding," Hot Rod said. "Megatron is still alive, so is Starscream, but no one's heard or seen anything of them since the battle in Egypt."

"Egypt?" Hound asked.

Hot Rod smiled. "It'll be explained at the briefing this afternoon with Prowl," he said. "But this is disturbing news. One Seeker means the others can't be far away."

He didn't voice what else he was thinking. Megatron's Seekers never strayed far from him.

"You'll pass along this information to Optimus?" Hound asked.

"This is too important for him to not hear it," Hot Rod said. "I'll deal with Ratchet. Go spend some time with Mirage before the briefing, enjoy some time to yourselves. It'll be a couple of days before you're both up to speed on everything, so get out of here."

Hound nodded, satisfied, leaving Hot Rod alone.  
\-----

Graham checked his watch for the seventh time, yawned, reached for his cup of coffee. He took a sip, half-listening as Prowl explained NEST's current command structure. The briefing was about a third of the way through-the parts about mission protocol and duty assignments were yet to come. Also, Prowl had distributed data pads with every mission report since the Autobots' arrival to Earth to Kup, Hound and Mirage, telling the three mechs that the material was required reading, although they could peruse it at their leisure.

That got the human's attention. Prowl telling his fellow Autobots to read reports at their leisure had him wondering if he was hallucinating. Sleep deprivation was known to cause them, wasn't it? Come to think of it, Prowl was skimming a little on the details, trying to shorten the briefing. Not like him at all, Graham thought. Well, from what he'd heard, Prowl hadn't been himself since his epic argument with Jazz. Rumors aside, Graham chalked it up to the presence of the second in command's baby brother on base. He'd seen the young mech before the briefing, in the med bay, arguing with Ratchet, trying to get Optimus Prime to agree with him. Ratchet. Graham smiled at that thought. A livid Ratchet ranting about sparklings and how they didn't listen. . .great. He was drifting. Sleep sounded good. He was going straight back to his bunk once the lecture was over. And from the way Kup was tapping his fingers on the table, he wanted out, too. That wasn't all he noticed. Kup had an indescribable look in his optics as he stared down at the data pad in front of him. Graham filed it away for future reference. It was his turn to talk.  
\-----

"What're you still doing here?" Springer asked. "It's after 2100. You were supposed to be off shift more than an hour ago."

Hot Rod looked up from the stack of data pads in front of him.

"I'm going over reports from the past few months. Some of them Kup hacked. I just wanted to know why he's been going through them, and there's other information I'm looking for," Hot Rod said.

"Like what?" Springer asked.

"I don't know," Hot Rod said.

"Don't worry about it," Springer said. "You know Kup. Probably bored out of his mind and thought he'd give Prowl something to do."

"Yeah," Hot Rod said, forcing a grin.

"Are you close to being done?" Springer asked.

"Not really," Hot Rod said. "I still need to go talk to Optimus."

"About?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Hot Rod muttered.

"OK. . ." Springer said. "I'll leave you to it."

Hot Rod sat back in his chair, feeling guilty. He was procrastinating now. He hadn't yet told Optimus of Hound's news, nor had he shared it with anyone else. He knew he should've gone straight to Optimus when he had the chance, but what could the Autobot leader do that he couldn't? Hopefully provide insight, Hot Rod thought. He'd waited long enough. He stood, strode from the office, heading for the med bay.  
\-----

Bluestreak lay on his ventral side on Prowl's berth, chin propped up on one hand, watching his brother go over reports. Except Prowl had been staring at the same data pad for more than 20 minutes, absentmindedly scrolling up and down through the data. He decided to give his brother a little more time before taking action. The young mech still had much to think about, Prowl's current behavior just one of many things to go over. His day, once he'd woken up and cleared by Ratchet, had included the orbital jump to Earth, his new home, followed by meeting as many of his new human allies as possible. Then he'd managed to see just about everyone on base from Optimus Prime in the med bay to hunting down Arcee to ask her in person if it was true she was really carrying an offspring and it was twins and the sire was Sunstreaker and then he'd seen Sunstreaker who was quieter than usual and then Sideswipe, who seemed glad to see him but had shut up when he saw Prowl and made excuses to leave. That was unusual.

Five more minutes passed. Prowl was still staring at the same spot on his data pad.

"What's bothering you?" Bluestreak asked.

Prowl jumped, startled, dropping the data pad. Bluestreak rolled off the berth, snatched it off the floor, sub-spacing it.

"Nothing," Prowl said.

"Uh huh," Bluestreak said. "That report couldn't have been that interesting. Something's up. Sideswipe's avoiding you and you're not talking to Jazz. . .well, kinda hard to talk to Jazz when he's not here. Where is Jazz anyway?"

"Reconnaissance mission with Drift," Prowl said, crossing his arms.

"One of the Wreckers? Alone?" Bluestreak said, smacking his forehead. "You just let him go?"

"I didn't 'let' Jazz do anything," Prowl said. "He requested the mission, which Rodimus approved."

"Hot Rod's crazier than I thought," Bluestreak said. "Rodimus? Really. Who came up with that? Did you come up with that, or was it Optimus? Or Kup? He might be a Prime, but he's still Hot Rod. . .oh, uh, I was saying. . .Jazz. . .what happened? You and Jazz and Sideswipe are close. I can't imagine anything that could happen that would make you three stop talking to each other. I mean you're all friends and it would be weird if something changed and wait a minute. . ."

Bluestreak tilted his head, suddenly deep in thought. He'd heard the rumors about Jazz having a fight with Prowl, was going to ask but he'd been so interested in Arcee's twins he forgot to ask and then he'd noticed 'Sides wasn't speaking to Prowl. . .something had definitely happened. . .something big. . .his optics widened. Certainly not. . .He rounded on his brother.

"Who interfaced with who?" Bluestreak asked, arms crossed.

Taken aback by the question, Prowl was too surprised to answer quickly.

"C'mon, Prowlie, who was it? Is that why Jazz left?" Bluestreak said.

"Blue, let's not talk about that," Prowl said.

"Don't 'Blue' me," Bluestreak said. "I'm not a sparkling. I'm not stupid. What happened?"

"It's my business," Prowl said, standing.

"My aft," Bluestreak said. "If you're not going to tell me, I'll go ask Sideswipe."

"Don't you dare," Prowl said, but Bluestreak was already gone


	39. Restraint

Precipitous

Chapter 39-Restraint

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet looked up from the data pad in his hands when he heard footsteps. He came out of his office, seeing Rodimus Prime standing inside the door, looking confused.

"Where's Optimus?" Hot Rod asked.

"In his quarters," Ratchet said. "At least he better be."

"You let him out of here again?" Hot Rod said.

"Optimus said he can rest better in his own quarters," Ratchet said.

"You believed him?"

"Don't you rest better in your own quarters?"

"It depends," Hot Rod answered.

"If you'd like to talk to Optimus, he's still awake, at least he was half an hour ago when I went to check on him," Ratchet said. "Ironhide was there, talking with him."

"Thanks, Ratch," Hot Rod said, leaving the med bay. He was still unsure of how to proceed with the intelligence given him by Hound. Hot Rod knew he was going to earn himself a lecture regardless of the route he chose. He could wait to tell Optimus. It was late, and getting him worked up would serve no real purpose. Instead, he commed Blaster, asking him to get Graham. Then he commed Prowl. He sighed. A leader's work was never done.

\-----  
Prowl nearly caught up with Bluestreak when his internal comm went off. He slowed. It was getting late, and if it was important, whoever it was could just. . .what was he thinking? He was the second in command of the Autobot forces, and personal matters took a back seat to duty. He stopped.

:What?: he asked.

:Have a few minutes?:

Prowl stiffened, fists clenched at his sides. Rodimus.

:What's going on?: Prowl asked.

:There's something you need to hear. It's important, otherwise I wouldn't be bothering you. Meet me in Prime's office:

:I'll be there shortly: Prowl answered.  
\-----  
Sideswipe rolled off his berth, swearing as he walked toward the door. The incessant chiming was damn annoying and he was going to give the offending mech a piece of his mind. He hit the release, frowned when the door slid open, revealing Bluestreak.

The young mech barged inside.

"You better shut the door and your mouth," Bluestreak said. "What's going on with Prowl and you and Jazz? Prowl wouldn't answer me, but it makes sense because Jazz and I heard he fought with Prowl and now he's gone and you two aren't talking so. . ."

"What makes sense?" Sideswipe finally managed.

"Somebody interfaced with somebody, right?" Bluestreak said.

"Blue, I don't think. . ."

"Don't think, answer the question," Bluestreak said. "I've never seen Prowl like this before. Ever. Or you. . ."

Sideswipe watched as Blue suddenly fell silent. The moment was remarkable because Bluestreak almost never shut up. Prowl had mentioned more than once his younger brother even talked when recharging. In this instance, Blue was silent because he'd come up with the possible reason for Prowl and Sideswipe's behavior.

"Was it you and Prowlie?" Bluestreak asked. "It's OK if it was, because he needs to unwind, and you like each other, but. . ."

He trailed off. Sideswipe was now sitting on his berth, shoulders slumped.

Bluestreak sat down beside him. "What's wrong? If you two did, what's the problem?"

"We did," Sideswipe said, staring at the floor. "I do care about Prowl, thought he might want to move past being just friends, but maybe he doesn't see me as being serious about anything. Maybe Sunny was right, and I just need to get over this notion. . .and Jazz. . .maybe he's jealous. I thought Prowl had talked to him, but I guess not. . ."

Bluestreak put an arm around Sideswipe. "'Sides, it'll be all right," he said. "C'mon. We can sort through this mess while you show me to the lab. I think we owe Prowlie and Sunny the mother of all pranks."


	40. Protract

Precipitous

Chapter 40-Protract

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Slow night, Kup reflected, pacing through ops, glancing around the control center, checking up on his charges. Perceptor had a data pad in his hands, swiftly flicking through the information on it, optics dimming occasionally as he commed someone. Sunstreaker and Jolt were actually doing their duty. Blaster looked busy, but it was hard to tell if he was actually doing what he was supposed to-monitoring communications.

However, the ancient mech's interest was piqued when he saw Prowl coming his way, Capt. Graham hard pressed to keep up. The human passed the other Autobots without a greeting. Not that Kup could blame him-he looked unhappy.

Blaster also noticed Prowl and the human passing through. He looked up at Kup, meeting his optics.

:Wonder what's going on?: Blaster said.

:Nothing good from the looks of it. Or not. I hope so: Kup answered. :They're headed for Prime's office:

:Want me to walk by and see?: Blaster said.

:No. I'll drag it out of Hot Rod when I get a chance:  
\-----

Prowl stood, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, tension in his frame belying the composed look on his face. Graham paced. Human and Autobot second in command listened while Hot Rod briefed them on Hound's intelligence.

"That's all?" Prowl asked.

"I can go get Hound and he can repeat it to you," Hot Rod said, annoyed.

"Saturn's moons?" Graham asked. "How are we supposed to monitor moons around a planet millions of miles away?"

"The Xantium can be used to scan for communications on frequencies undetectable by human technology," Prowl said. "Also, with our scientific and engineering capabilities, finding anything out of place on the planet or its moons is possible. It might take time, but it can be accomplished."

"So we just tell Galloway we need a really big telescope to look for Decepticons?" Graham said.

"I wish it were that simple," Prowl said. "Capt. Graham, if you don't mind, I'd like a few minutes alone with Rodimus."

Graham met Hot Rod's optics. Hot Rod shrugged.

"Sure," Graham said, suddenly unsure about leaving his friend alone with Prowl. "I'll just see myself out."

Prowl nodded, waited until the human was gone, then centered his attention on Rodimus Prime. "You've been in possession of this information since this morning and didn't think it important enough to pass along until now?" Prowl said.

"It's not that I didn't think it was important," Hot Rod said. "I wasn't sure what to do. . ."

Prowl vented air, sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He counted backward from 10, trying hard to keep his composure.

"If you were unsure, then why didn't you come to me? I'm your second in command," Prowl said. "It's my job to help disseminate information, offer advice. I'm not here to just write reports and be a pain in your aft."

"I'm sorry. . ." Hot Rod started, but the look in Prowl's optics silenced him.

"And do you have any idea what Galloway will say when he finds out you had this information and withheld it? He will take this and use it against you," Prowl said. "I don't mean to criticize, but you're young and inexperienced, and not used to dealing with beings like Galloway. . ."

"Prowl, shut up," Hot Rod said. "I'm aware I've made a mistake, and I don't need it thrown back in my face. If you don't have anything constructive to offer, take Graham back to the barracks and go get some rest. I'll deal with Galloway myself."

Prowl nodded stiffly, excused himself without a word.  
\-----  
The drive to the barracks was a short one. Graham didn't ask Prowl about his exchange with Rodimus, but he knew the Autobot second in command well enough to realize his silence was caused by more than just annoyance with a superior. Prowl pulled up by the barracks, but Graham didn't get out.

"Prowl, everything all right?" he asked. "If you need to talk, I can spare a few minutes."

"Your offer is appreciated, but you need rest more than I need to unburden myself," Prowl said. "And don't forget-my brother is here, and I need to get back and make sure he hasn't gotten himself into any trouble."

Graham smiled. "I've been cautioned Bluestreak and the twins are notorious pranksters," he said.

"Indeed," Prowl said. "So you see why I must get back."

"Yeah," Graham said, climbing out. "'Night Prowl, thanks for the ride."

"You're welcome."  
\-----

Hot Rod winced as Galloway raised his voice. Several of the human techs on the communications platform looked his way, offering their sympathy.

"Why didn't you bring this intelligence to our attention earlier? Time is of the essence," Galloway said. "What kind of dog and pony show are you running out there? I'll be there day after tomorrow."

Hot Rod turned and walked out of the hanger as the screen went dark. He transformed, speeding back to the Autobot hangar. Once there, he returned to his bipedal form, hoping to make it to his quarters without any interruptions. He needed a little time to clear his head and probably get it removed by Prowl when he informed the second in command Galloway was coming to Diego Garcia.  
\-----

He was punching in the access code to his quarters when someone commed him.

:Rodimus?:

Optimus. Great.

:Yeah?: Hot Rod answered.

:Checking if you were still up. Is everything all right?: Optimus asked.

:Depends on your definition of "all right": Hot Rod said.

:What's going on?: Optimus said.

:Have a little time?: Hot Rod said. :We need to talk:

Optimus Prime's expression was unreadable. Hot Rod kept talking, filling in the other Autobot, trying to keep from pacing.

"I understand why Galloway's so worked up, but it was an incredibly short burst of communications," Hot Rod said. "Skywarp could be gone by now, and it's been nearly a year since anyone's seen Megatron. You defeated him yourself. . ."

"Or that burst of communication could mean there are more Decepticons in hiding in this solar system," Optimus said. "I'm glad you've admitted your mistake, but that does not make up for the fact you underestimated the importance of the information passed on to you. Rodimus, You've been doing well, but you still have much to learn."

Hot Rod frowned. "You know, Prowl already pointed that out once, and I don't need to be reminded again," he said. "I said I'm sorry. . ."

"Which will not make up for the fact Galloway is coming," Optimus said. "You think he's unpleasant from thousands of miles away. . ."

"Yeah, can't wait to meet him in person," Hot Rod said.

"You will be courteous and respectful while he's here," Optimus said.

"I won't be a doormat," Hot Rod said. "Sounds to me like Galloway's walked all over you and everyone else here on base."

Suddenly, Optimus stood, walked over, optics dark.

"You, Rodimus Prime," he said, shoving a finger into the armor of Hot Rod's chest as he talked, emphasizing each word. "Need to remember your place. You are a Prime, and right now, you are in charge. Must I remind you of that yet again? You are no longer a subordinate, and cannot get away with acting like. . .like a delinquent. Galloway is the national security advisor to the American president, one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful human on the planet. You will act with proper decorum while in his presence or you will answer to me."

Hot Rod glared up at the bigger mech, trying not to feel cowed. He drew himself up to his full height, which was no small feat, considering he barely reached up to the Autobot leader's shoulder.

"And you need to realize I am not going to let Galloway continue to treat us and the humans we serve with with anything less than respect," Hot Rod said. "He's disregarding your orders-keeps pressing for more information on our weapons and technology, puts down the way we do things, makes me second guesses every decision I make, and you want me to be courteous. . ."

"I expect you to be courteous," Optimus said, trying hard to keep his voice even.

"Fine," Hot Rod said. "I'll try."

"You will do more than try," Optimus said.

"Can't you just let it go?" Hot Rod said. "He's not here yet. It's late, and I'm in no mood to argue anymore. I'll see you tomorrow."

He shouldered past Optimus, who didn't try to stop him as he passed by.


	41. Concede

Precipitous

Chapter 41-Concede

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

:Blue, where are you?:

Bluestreak ignored the comm from Prowl, concentrating his attention on the lock to the storage room that served as Perceptor's lab.

:Bluestreak, if you do not answer, I'm coming for you:

"Wow," Blue said to Sideswipe, who was standing guard. "Prowlie's getting annoyed I'm not answering."

"What the slag do you expect?" Sideswipe hissed. "You're not even here on this planet one full day before doing something stupid."

Blue grinned up at Sideswipe. "Yeah, usually it's the other way around," he said. "Look at it this way, 'Sides, I'm trying to help."

"How? By getting our afts thrown in the brig? I think Prowl's already pissed at me enough without adding this to it," Sideswipe said. "And he'll blame me for this little break-in."

"Have to get caught to get blamed," Bluestreak said. "Plus I don't think Prowlie's angry with you. Avoiding you, yes, but you know that's how he deals when he can't deal with his emotions. He pushes away those he cares about. . ."

He stopped, feeling a hand tighten on his shoulder, tried to look over at Sideswipe, who was now similarly restrained.

"What in the Pit do you two think you're doing?" Prowl asked, face emotionless.  
\-----  
Hot Rod felt someone shaking him.

"Hot Rod, lad, what are you doing here?" Kup asked. "Something the matter? The rec room's hardly suitable for a decent recharge."

"Couldn't recharge in my quarters because Springer was. . .busy. . .and I don't think I was welcome where I'd been before that," Hot Rod said.

"Get thrown out of that berth you were sharing the other night?" Kup asked.

"No," Hot Rod said.

"So who are you seeing?" Kup said.

"No one," Hot Rod answered.

"So it's nothing serious," Kup said. "A casual relationship still counts as a relationship."

"It's not even that," Hot Rod said. "It's. . .complicated."

Kup noticed Hot Rod suddenly shift away from him, the spike in his energy field, the firm set to his jaw. He followed the young mech's line of vision, seeing Optimus Prime standing inside the doorway, Ironhide with a hand on his shoulder, trying to drag the other mech away.

"Gotta go, Kup," Hot Rod said. "Get some rest. We need to talk later."

"Indeed we do lad," Kup said, but Hot Rod did not hear.  
\-----  
Ironhide's firm grip on his shoulder was all that kept Optimus Prime from following Rodimus.

"Leave him alone," Ironhide said. "And if you don't tell me what's going on this time, I will haul you to Ratchet."

"Rodimus has suffered from yet another error in sound judgment," Optimus said.

"Meaning?" Ironhide said.

"Not relaying intelligence along the proper channels," Optimus said.

"That doesn't seem like much of a reason for the look in his optics," Ironhide said.

"Ironhide. . ."

"Fine," Ironhide said, letting go. "Follow him. Get your aft handed to you. He'll do it. Believe me, I'm just waiting for that to happen. I hope I have a front row seat when it does. Because you deserve it."

Optimus started to snap back, but Ironhide was already gone. He vented air, sighing, turning to head back to his quarters. He heard footsteps, guessed it was Kup trying to catch up with him.

"Got someplace to be so early?" Kup asked, falling into step beside the bigger mech. "I thought you were out of the med bay on the condition you'd rest."

"I am," Optimus said. "But I needed to speak with Rodimus."

"Can't it wait?" Kup said. "Lad looks like he could use some time alone. And from the way he was looking, I don't think I'd go near him right now. If you can't figure it out, Hot Rod spent the night in the rec room. I gather he got thrown out of someone's quarters. I don't suppose you know whose?

"That's his business," Optimus replied.

"So you do know then," Kup said. "Who's he seeing?"

Optimus stopped, turning to face Kup. "Is this really necessary?" he asked. "Kup, as you said, I need to rest, and you just got off duty so. . ."

Kup crossed his arms, optic ridge raised, his suspicions now aroused by Optimus' deflection of a simple question.

"What's going on between you two?" he asked.  
\-----

Jazz felt a little guilty for not following orders. Missing communications check-ins probably had the others worrying back at base, but he was special ops. At least that's what he kept telling himself. Several days gone, and still no sign of the Combaticons. It was like they'd disappeared. He and Drift found no trace, and now, Jazz was considering packing it in, except he wasn't ready to go back, didn't want to go back, couldn't face Prowl. He'd said some things he regretted, hadn't voiced a few things he should've said. Enough was enough.

:Drift, time to head back to base: Jazz commed.

:Want me to contact the Xantium?: Drift answered.

:ASAP:

A few seconds later, the two Autobots were no longer tooling down a road in rural Mexico. They materialized on the Xantium, Drift nodding to Jazz before he was bounced back down to Diego Garcia.


End file.
